Just My Luck
by Madame Band Geek
Summary: AU: Somehow ghosts have always flocked to me. It is just my luck to shipped to place crawling with ghosts. I just never expected to find one sitting in my room when I got there. :Chapter 14: Pizza, ghosts and memories galore... Sam POV DS
1. Chapter One

Just My Luck

Chapter One

Rated for: (Yes, I love doing this) Mild language, horrible fight scenes, a little bit of violence, plotting, and well-sought after revenge. And what else? Coupleness.

I just went to the Danny Phantom Nick page, and clicked on characters. When I got to Sam, it said this in big, bold, capital letters: _DANNY AND SAM ARE NOT A COUPLE! They're just two friends who share a psychic connection._

Psychic connection, my ass. If that's a psychic connection, then Romeo was the biggest macho-ego-freak anyone ever read about. ((Please note sarcasm))

Guess what? This is Danny/Sam. Wo0t. Don't like it, too bad.

_ Thoughts, or a flashback._ You should know the drill by now.

888888888

Just gotta get out- just gotta get right outta here!

-Queen, "Bohemian Rhapsody"

_ My first ghost was a cat. _

_ It was orange, and had a bit of a squashed face. I was three years old. _

_ I would wander around the house for it, calling, "Mr. Kitty! Mr. Kitty!"_

"_Mommy, can I keep the orange kitty?"_

"_What kitty, Samantha? Honestly, there's no cat there. It's just your imagination." She turned out her heel and left._

_ I was three years old and I learned one important thing. _

_ I could see things that other people couldn't.__

* * *

_

I learned at an early age not to tell people that I saw ghosts.

For some reason, I remembered this as I walked down the halls of my school. I was passing the walls I knew asbestos was growing, down past the moldy freshman lockers, and down past the burning chemistry lab.

My combat books made clunking noises as I wandered down the hallway I knew so well, and when I turned the handle the door squeaked a bit. I grinned. My school was falling apart.

The secretaries, all of them looking eighty-five or older, rolled their eyes when they saw me. I rolled my eyes back, and decided to glare at them from under my black bangs. I slid sideways in my seat, resting my feet on the old, worn out table.

I stared at the ceiling and became fascinated by the cracks in the ceiling, which have somehow always looked like a hippopotamus. I knew I would be here for five minutes. So I waited until…

"Samantha Manson, the principal would like to see you."

_ Finally._

I swung my feet to the ground, walking to the door. The handle fit in the palm of my hand perfectly.

_ Like we were meant to be together,_ I thought wryly. A slight smile crossed my face as I pushed the door all the way open.

"Samantha, Samantha, Samantha," sighed the ancient principal, Mr. Jones, a balding old man in his fifties, "Apparently you have-"

"Practiced my rights in the terms of the First Amendment. I refused to dissect frogs and walked out, right to down here." I picked at a loose thread in my purple dress. "I know, I know."

"Samantha…" Mr. Jones sighed yet again, "What are we going to do with you?"

"Take me out of that psycho's class." I answered without thinking. My eyes widened as I realized what I just said.

_ Oh shit. I am so in for it now_.

"Samantha Manson, at this rate, you will not be able to get into even a _decent _college unless you change very quickly, and it's only the third month of your freshman year!"

I waited for a second. Then,

"And look at this, Samantha: Breaking and entering on multiple accounts, you've cut class five times this month, and you trespassed on private property six times!" Mr. Jones took off his glasses and massaged his temples.

_ So shoot me if I had a few messy jobs to attend to. I'm the only medium for miles around._

"I think what you need is a fresh start." Mr. Jones concluded.

_ A fresh start? Does this mean he's changing my schedule?_

"Samantha, your mother is moving you to Amity Park, New York in a matter of days."

I nearly fell out of my chair.

_ Amity Park, New York?_

_ You've got to be kidding me._

_

* * *

_

"Amity Park? _Amity Park?_" I repeated to my mother a few hours later, "Am-"

"Yes, Samantha, I know!" My mother scowled. Her blonde hair bounced a bit as she sighed, "You'll be moving at the end of this week."

"I'm leaving California? I'm leaving Haywood?" I repeated, "To go to somewhere up in the boonies?"

"Samantha Manson, I know you are not happy about this. But this is for the best. You need a fresh start, and I need peace of mind!" My mother finished vehemently, "Now go pack your things."

"Fine." I turned around with a roll of my eyes, stomping all the way up the steps.

I flung the door open to my room, stomped inside, closed the door, and promptly flopped down on my bed. I refused to move for five minutes.

Finally, with a sigh, I threw open my closet. A grin quickly appeared. I was taking everything that was black or Goth in some way. I dug around for my Converse, and once having found them, I threw them over my shoulder.

My mother left boxes at my door, so I stuffed every square inch of them with things I cared about, including most of my clothes. I glanced at my calendar.

I was leaving in two days.

* * *

"Mom, I'll be fine." I refrained from rolling my eyes, so I distracted myself with adjusting the strap of my backpack.

"Alright, Samantha," My mother sniffed, "Make sure that Aunt Elma calls us to tell us that you made it to Amity safely."

"I know, I know." I shifted my weight to my other foot. "Can I go now? I kind of have to board the plane."

"Fine. Go. She'll be fine." My father assured my mother. "Sammy can take care of herself."

I inwardly flinched. I hated Sammy almost as much as Samantha. I waved, and walked through the terminal as fast as I could. I got to my seat without a problem, rented a set of headphones, and promptly went to sleep.

* * *

"We are now arriving at the Kennedy Airport. Please lock your trays in the upright position, and we are a little bit ahead of schedule. It is 2:45 PM, local time."

I stirred from sleep, yawning and stretching out. I checked my watch and blinked. My watch was still on West Coast time.

Thirty extremely tedious, boring, mind numbing minutes later, I was walking out of the terminal, searching for the woman "who bears a great resemblance to myself".

_ Oh, please._

My eyes gazed the crowd in a bored manner and I yawned. I was hungry. My eyes finally landed on a woman.

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

"Sam? Sam Manson?"

_ Hallelujah, praise the Lord. Someone says my name right._

I raised a hand. "It's me, Aunt Elma."

As soon as I got within ten feet of her, she stuck out her hand to shake. "It's Elma Manson, pleased to meet you."

I shook it back. "I'm Sam Manson."

Aunt Elma took one of my carry-ons from me. "C'mon, let's go get your luggage."

I scowled. "My mother apparently shipped all of my clothes to you last week."

Aunt Elma furrowed her brow. "Ah, I remember now."

I was going to learn very soon that Aunt Elma was a tad bit absentminded.

"Have you ever heard of Amity Park before? It was established as another town about a hundred and fifty years ago, and then abandoned for quite some time."

My heart started racing._ A hundred and fifty years? A HUNDRED AND FIFTY YEARS? The place is going to be crawling,_ crawling_ with ghosts. _

"Then maybe, oh, I dunno, seventy-five years ago it just started up again!" Aunt Elma smiled. My mother was right. We had the same smile.

Meanwhile, my brain was still trying to process about a hundred and fifty years of ghosts.

My mother had sent me somewhere haunted.

My life was perfect.

* * *

Two and a half hours later we had made it to Aunt Elma's house. Excuse me, mansion.

The place towered at three stories and must have spanned twice the length of a normal house. A gate ran around the perimeter. For some reason, the Radley house from To Kill a Mockingbird popped into my mind.

"Whoa."

Aunt Elma turned to me. "Most people have that impression."

I shrugged and nodded. The air in Amity was brimming with energy.

I was going to have one hell of a time getting most of the ghosts to move on. For some reason, I was destined from birth to play shrink to little ghosties, a few of whom weren't too happy about having to move on. So they take it out on me.

I placed my hand on the railing and was aware that Aunt Elma was right behind me. I turned around. "How old is this house?"

Aunt Elma pursed her lips. "Around twenty years old, I think."

I relaxed.

"But there was a house that stood here way back when that burned down."

I stiffened. _Great. Just great. This is just my luck, to land a haunted town and a piece of haunted land. _

Aunt Elma pulled ahead of me, leading me down a hallway to a door. "This is your room."

She pulled the door open.

I noticed three things at first. I sucked in my breath.

One, my bedspread was a mix of black, silver, purple, navy and fuchsia, which I immediately fell in love with.

Two, there was a window seat overlooking a river, which would make a pretty scene at sunset.

Aunt Elma looked at me. "Are you alright?"

I nodded. "I'm fine. I love my room. Thanks."

Aunt Elma nodded approvingly. "How do you feel about Chinese?"

"I'm a vegetarian!" I called after her.

"Me too!" She shouted from somewhere down the hallway.

The third thing I noticed was sitting on my window seat. I marched right up to it. I knew what it was the minute I saw it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded my hands on my hips.

"Whaaaa?" He jerked around and I gasped for the second time since I saw the room.

He was gorgeous.

The downer?

He was also dead.

* * *

It's Aunt Elma because Harvest Folk Group rocks. I tried to say, "Kathy has orange tic-tacs!" But I apparently said Aunt Elma instead. And she's single because I don't feel like making an Uncle.

She just met Danny. Whoopee, I love AUs.

I googled Amityville. It said it was in New York, so that's where Amity Park is. Haywood is an actual town in California. My great aunt lives there. She's awesome.

I'm going to have lots of fun with this. :D

Review. Please. Now.


	2. Chapter Two

Just My Luck

Chapter Two

I don't own Danny Phantom. Shocking, right?

Yes, I am a Meg Cabot fan. I did read Mediator.

I'm taking a couple of liberties with this fic. So don't go getting mad.

Is it Amity Park or AmityPark? I've seen it done both ways in one chapter. (I love you, Jimmy!)

This chapter: Danny and Sam just try to get along, and Sam makes friends and enemies.

"_Whaaaa?" He jerked around and I gasped for the second time since I saw the room._

_ He was gorgeous._

_ The downer?_

_ He was also dead._

* * *

_ It sucks to be me!_

_ -Avenue Q_

His eyes were the bluest I've ever seen. I gaped at him, mouth wide open. He looked to be in excellent condition, except for the fact that he was dead.

You see, unlike the in the Six Sense, ghosts do not return to what they looked like when they died. They return to the image of themselves before anything happened to them.

"What's your name?" I finally managed to get my mouth to work.

His eyes looked straight through me. "Danny. My name is Danny." His mouth moved strangely, as if he hadn't used his voice in over a hundred years.

That could've been the case, but his clothes looked more or less modern.

"What's your name?" He asked, also looking a bit confused.

Although I would never admit it, he looked adorable when he was confused. I vigorously shook those thoughts out of my head before answering, "Sam."

"As in Samantha?" He asked.

I twitched. "Just Sam, please. I despise the name Samantha."

His brows furrowed. "Why would you despise your own name?"

"Because my mother gave it to me, that's why." I shot him a glare. "And I'm not saying anything more."

He was still looking at me as if I'd dropped out of the ceiling. I refrained from rolling my eyes.

I mean, c'mon, I'm not the most attractive girl, but I like to think that I'm not hideous. Sure, the black lipstick might've been pushing it a bit, but still.

"Alright Danny," I sat myself down on the window seat, "I'm here to help you pass on to the next plane of existence. Why don't we get started now?"

He gaped at me. "I'm fine like I am now."

I shook my head sympathetically and sighed. "Danny, listen to me. You don't understand." If I had been daring, I would've taken his hand in mine. "You don't belong here. This isn't where you're supposed to be."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "I think you're the one who doesn't understand."

_ Crap. Now I've pissed him off._

I knew that tone of voice. That was the tone that normally gets me into big, big trouble.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Danny. You. Don't. Belong. Here."

He stood up. "No, _Samantha_," He hissed my name as if it were a curse, "You're the one who doesn't belong here. I've lived here contently for a long time and nobody's bothered me. Just because some girl who misplaced all her colors for black comes along doesn't mean I'm leaving."

Now I was mad.

"Danny," I said in a low, threatening voice. I also stood up to match him. "You're not alive. So you can't live here."

"Who says I can't?" He smirked and leaned in close to my face.

"Sam!" Aunt Elma thumped on my closed door. "Do you want eggrolls?"

My eyes never leaving Danny's, I told her I did.

Once I heard her footsteps die away, I confronted Danny again. "Listen, I'm sorry about getting off on the wrong foot. But you're a ghost, and I'm a medium, and I'm supposed to help you move on."

He opened his mouth to retort but closed it again. "What's a medium?"

I sat down on the window seat. "Basically, I'm a person who can see, hear, and talk to every single ghost inhabiting this planet. I'm supposed to help them cross over."

He nodded. "And what does this have to do with me?"

I let out a little scream of frustration. "Are you _clueless_? I'm supposed to help you pass on, because you're a ghost, and I'm a medium, that that's what mediums do!"

Danny sunk down to sit next to me. "There's just one little problem with that equation. I'm not leaving and you can't do anything about it."

"I could do something about it." I grinned sweetly.

"Oh, what are you going to do?" Danny snapped, "Make Elma move me out?"

I wasn't going to address the fact that he knew Aunt Elma. "I can do an exorcism, but I don't like doing them."

His face leaned in close to mine. "Try me."

I scowled back at him.

Though he might be pretty hot, he was going to drive me crazy.

* * *

Only thirty minutes later, I was downstairs eating eggrolls with Aunt Elma.

She looked at me over the top of cheese won-tons. "Do you like it here?"

"Yeah." Other than having a ghost inhabiting my bedroom, Amity Park was great.

"You'll be starting school tomorrow. Be sure to sleep."

"Okay." I shrugged. I didn't know how much sleep I'd be getting with Danny, but I'd make some things clear to him.

"Sam…" Aunt Elma put her chopsticks down and looked at me. "I know my sister-in-law is a bit… controlling, but you can talk to me about anything."

I sighed and put my water down. "Did she tell you about my criminal record?"

Aunt Elma's eyes held traces of amusement. "Yes, but she also told me about your schizophrenic tendencies."

I almost smiled. "She thinks that I think that I can see ghosts."

Aunt Elma shrugged. "Maybe you can, maybe you can't. Personally I'd like to think some people hang around for a bit. If you say you can, I'll believe you. Maybe you can do something about him upstairs."

My jaw nearly unhinged. _She knows? She knows that Danny is upstairs? _

_ So that's why I got the bedroom. She thinks that I could get rid of him. _

I almost laughed.

"Yeah, Aunt Elma, I'll try."

* * *

The coolest thing about my room, other than the window seat, was that it had a bathroom attached to it.

I stood with my arms crossed, my pajamas lying beside me on the bed. I waited for Danny to show up. He appeared by the window seat.

"Danny?" I called, "I need to talk to you."

He turned and his blue eyes caught me off guard again.

"Listen," I began, not sure of where to go, "Since we're going to be staying with each other for a while now, I want to lay down some rules."

He looked my way. "I'm listening."

I looked at him. "No barging in on me. Respect my privacy. Ask before you enter. Call me Sam."

"Agreed," He said, "Respect me, call me Danny, and don't get into too much trouble that you can't get yourself out of."

I bristled. "I can take care of myself! But agreed."

He nodded.

"Danny? Could you vamoose for maybe, oh, I don't know, ten minutes?" I picked up my pajamas.

He was gone.

* * *

"Bewaaaare!"

I opened my eyes groggily.

_ Not now, please not now._

I rolled over and checked the clock. And cursed.

I swung my feet to rest on the floor and took in the scene. An overweight ghost in overalls was scurrying about my room, overturning boxes, which were floating beside him.

He saw me. "BEWARE! I AM THE BOX GHOST!"

I yawned. "And?"

He looked at the boxes, then to me, then to the boxes. "BEWARE!"

_ It's too early. I swear, it's way too early._

"Will you let go of the boxes and tell me what your problem is?" I said, exasperated.

He looked at me and straightened up. "I am the Box Ghost. I am ruler of all things square and boxlike."

I continued to stare at him.

"Beware!"

He disappeared, the boxes crashing to the ground.

I heard a masculine laugh come from the corner of my room. I jumped.

Danny was bent in half, laughing hysterically. "Sam, you're- you're great. That was priceless." Tears of mirth were making their way down his cheeks while he continued to snicker.

"Danny. It is four-thirty in the morning." I pointed out, pulling my covers over my head. "I'd really, really like to sleep."

He continued to chuckle. "Sure thing, Sam."

Danny laughed for the next half hour.

* * *

When my alarm went off later, I noticed that Danny was gone.

I rolled out of bed, grabbed a purple miniskirt, a black long sleeved tee and other clothing items from the floor where the Box Ghost had dumped them only hours before.

I made my way to the bathroom, squinting in the bright light. I showered, got dressed ate, and waited for Aunt Elma to get the car keys.

"So, will you be okay?" She asked me as we left the house.

I held up my cell phone, which was black. "I've programmed your number and your cell number. I'll be fine."

She smiled sleepily. "Good."

Only ten minutes later, I was looking at the front doors of Casper High.

* * *

I made it to homeroom as the bell rang.

An overweight, bald man glared at me. "Samantha Manson, I presume. Let's hope your lateness is only confined to your first day."

"It will be Mr.-" I glanced at the schedule. "Lancer."

"Good. You can take your seat next to Mr. Foley. He's the one with the PDA." Mr. Lancer glared at him. "Put your gadgets away, Mr. Foley."

An African American teen jumped up, his red hat flying off. "Yes sir, right away, Mr. Lancer sir."

I slid down into my seat as Mr. Lancer handed me an extra copy of Catcher in the Rye. "I expect you to read until chapter eleven tonight, and you will need a notebook."

I nodded. "I will, Mr. Lancer."

Mr. Foley turned to me. "Hey, my name's Tucker. Don't mind Mr. Lancer too much, he's not as scary- actually, yeah, he is as scary as he looks."

"My name is Sam Manson. Nice to meet you."

"Mr. Foley!" Mr. Lancer shouted, "While it is polite to introduce yourself, I expect you do to it after class! And Ms. Mason, I will not be so lenient tomorrow."

I swallowed. "Understood, Mr. Lancer."

* * *

It was lunch. I was outside. And I was in trouble.

"Hey! Look at that! It's a Goth!"

I turned to see who was making that annoying noise. It was a tall, blond, stupid ol' jock.

Jock just about spells death for me, so I figured I better move it.

His Asian friend seemed to catch on. "Hey everyone, look at the freak!"

I turned and glared. I could tell Casper High was thrilled to meet me.

"Hey, Sam!" I saw Tucker just ahead of me, waving for me to join him. I clutched my brown paper bag and made my way over to Tucker.

"Hey, look at little Goth run!" The blond jock shouted.

I rolled my eyes as I sat down. "Are they always so loud?"

Tucker nodded. "Yeah, that blond one's Dash. The other one is Kwan. Just don't get in their way, and you'll be fine."

I chanced a look in their direction. "Who's the girl with them?" I took note of her wavy dark hair cascading down her back, and her face reminded me of a cat.

"That's Paulina." Tucker made a face, and pulled out his lunch at the same time.

I gagged. He was a meat lover.

This was perfect.

I pulled out my own lunch, and he gagged.

"You're a vegetarian?" He asked.

"No, I'm an ultra-recylo-vegetarian. I don't eat anything with a face."

Tucker retorted, "I'm on a strict all-meat diet."

I snorted. "Sure, okay, whatever."

I happened to turn my head towards the side and noticed that Danny was standing there.

"Excuse me," I said to Tucker, "I'll be right back."

He was so engrossed in eating his lunch that he grunted.

I marched all the way up to Danny. "What are you doing here?" I demanded.

He laid his hand on me.

There's one thing I forgot to mention. Regular mediums cannot touch ghosts. But I can. They feel as real to me as regular humans. But they're not supposed to.

"Sam, something's coming."

"What do you mean, something's coming?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, a large cafeteria worker appeared at my side. She was also a ghost.

"Honey, did you eat your meat?" She asked, rather sweetly, and held out a plate of fried chicken to me.

"I don't eat meat."

I knew that I said the wrong thing as soon as the words left my mouth. Danny shook his head. "You're in for it now, Sam."

The cafeteria worker puffed up to be twice her normal size.** "Then you must die!" **

The next thing I saw was the plate of fried chicken being hurtled at me.

I was going to kill my mother for sending me here.

* * *

_ Thanks to all of you who reviewed. There is such a town as Haywood, I'm positive. I was there last May. Is Sam sounding like another character a bad thing? Thank you for all the nice compliments. Sam rocks, of course she does. Long live D/S!_

Review pretty please. Or monkeys just might eat your brains out with a straw.


	3. Chapter Three

Just My Luck

Chapter Three

Disclaimer-thingy-mabob: Yeah, I don't own it.

I always despise the starting chapters of a story. That's when the characters are horribly OOC, especially in an AU. But I get better as I get used to the characters. Bah. But everyone (well, mostly everyone) still loves it anyway.

This chapter: Sam pisses off the lunch lady ghost, she talks more to the Box Ghost, she has to mediate a crying ghost, she finds out about Danny, and the authoress gives up on quotes because they're a royal pain in the ass.

_ The next thing I saw was the plate of fried chicken being hurtled at me._

_ I was going to kill my mother for sending me here._

* * *

I just stared stupidly at the plate as it crashed down next to me. I looked at Danny. "Is she for real?"

He nodded. "Yeah, she's for real."

I pursed my lips as another plate of fried chicken was hurled at me. As usual, nobody except for me had a clue about what was going on.

Normally I would fight a ghost this violent, but I didn't want to make an impression I didn't want, especially on the last day of school.

"Look, lady," I addressed the ghost as bacon was thrown at me, "I didn't mean to offend you-" I ducked a plate of pork chops, "-But what I meant was I don't eat lunch meat."

The throwing had ceased. She peered down at me. "No lunch meat, honey?"

I shook my head obediently.

"**Are you insulting my cooking?"**

A plate of filet mignon came hurtling towards me.

She raised a chicken bone club at me, probably meaning to knock my head off my shoulders.

I braced myself, but the blow never came.

Instead, Danny had punched her lights out.

She came crashing to the ground with a gigantic BOOM, and dematerialized. The rest of the crowd was cheerfully oblivious to what was going on.

I gaped at Danny. "You could do that? Why didn't you tell me?"

He smiled at me. "I thought you could take care of yourself."

I opened and closed my mouth like a demented goldfish. "You know what I meant!" I shouted.

Big mistake.

Dash looked at me. "Hey, the Goth is talking to herself. The Goth is crazy!"

"Yeah," Kwan chimed in, "She's crazy!"

I glared at Danny. "Thanks one whole freaking lot."

But of course, he was gone before I could say anything more.

* * *

I had to endure weird looks for the rest of the afternoon. Danny didn't show up for the remainder of the school day, so I saw him as soon as I got home.

"I'm back!" I yelled, throwing my backpack into the chair next to the front door. "Aunt Elma, I'm home!"

"Sam?" A faint voice issued from the ceiling. "Is that you?"

"Yes!" I shouted back to her, "It's me!"

"Wouldn't it be easier to just up there yourself?" Danny asked, leaning against the wall.

I scowled at him. "I became really popular today, no thanks to you."

He smirked. "You're the one that can talk to ghosts."

I made a face at him. "Shut up."

I heard footsteps on the stairs, and I turned to Danny. "Scram. I don't feel like playing interpreter."

"Whatever you say," Danny said with a sigh, and then was gone.

"Hey Sam," Aunt Elma greeted me, "You want to go shopping?"

I grimaced. I hated shopping with a passion. "I need some things for school, so yeah, why don't we?"

* * *

We arrived in front of Staples only minutes later. I pulled out my list, telling Aunt Elma what we would need.

I was wandering the isles for page dividers when I started to hear rustling from the boxes. I turned to look, only to see one throw itself off the shelf and fall on the floor.

As if on cue, the Box Ghost appeared next to it. "This shall be a great addition to my collection of boxes!"

"Not you again," I muttered under my breath, turning to face him. "Hey, Mr. Box Ghost,"

He turned to me. "Yes, what is it that you inquire?"

"Why are you still here, and how soon can I help you move on?"

The Box Ghost looked at me as if I had said the moon was made of cheese. "You cannot help me move on, because I shall not. I AM THE-"

"I know, I know. You are the Box Ghost, ruler of all boxes." I sighed, sitting down on the hard floor.

"And I do not want to pass on. I am content with where I am!"

I almost screamed._ What is it with Amity Park and all these stubborn ghosts? For once, I'd like to meet one who wants to move on!_

As soon as I finished that thought, I heard a pathetic sniffle. I rolled my eyes.

I had the best luck.

* * *

I was at the checkout counter with Aunt Elma when I saw Paulina.

"Oh my God, that's the Goth girl!" Her eyes widened, and she took a sip of her latte, or whatever the hell it was.

Aunt Elma took out her credit card to pay.

I gritted my teeth together. Something told me that nobody really liked me here in Amity Park.

Aunt Elma looked at Paulina and then turned to me. "Is she a friend of yours?"

"Not really." I answered back, as Paulina sashayed off.

Aunt Elma opened the car door and threw our bags inside. I reclined in the backseat, closing my eyes for a minute or two.

Almost immediately I heard a sob. I sighed and opened one eye.

A girl with long red hair and green eyes looked back at me, tears still running down her face. Her dress was down past her ankles and done in a golden color, looking like she stepped right out of the Renaissance.

"Who- who are you?" She hiccupped.

"Aunt Elma, my schizophrenia is acting up again!" I called.

"Alright." Aunt Elma said back.

"So, what's your name?" I asked the Renaissance girl.

"Cassandra." She answered, another fresh wave of sobs wracking her body.

_ Crap, I really am no good with criers._

"Um, Cassandra, I am Sam, and I am a medium."

"A medium?" Cassandra repeated.

"I'm a link between the living and the dead; I help the lingering dead pass on."

Cassandra dissolved into tears again as I watched helplessly.

* * *

I managed to convince Cassandra to get out of the car and follow me into my room. I sat her down on her bed.

"It's just… so weird." Cassandra said, pushing her hair back out of her face. "I'm so young, I'm not supposed to just have a heart attack and drop dead."

"I know, that is pretty strange," I agreed, wishing that Danny would hurry up and show before she bawled again.

I really, really don't like criers. I just don't know what to do with them.

"I mean, I'm working at this Renaissance fair up in the White Plains as Lady Condolence. I'm supposed to stroll around inside this college, being completely in character."

I nodded.

"And then, I just started feeling funny. My left arm hurt and my chest felt all tight. I went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and just collapsed. I remember blacking out." Cassandra swallowed hard, "The next thing I know, I hear sirens and shouts and screams and technical medical stuff being shouted. I can see everything, but it's all distorted and twisted and spinning."

Cassandra cleared her throat. "I remember seeing blood and a lot of crying people, and then I was home. My mother was sobbing and my sister was in hysterics. I tried to call out to them but I couldn't. So I wandered around for a while, watching everyone cry and then… it hit me. I was dead."

Cassandra finally burst into tears, "Why me? Why'd I die so young?"

Danny finally showed up as I turned to him. "Danny, you've gotta help me out. Please. I can't calm her down."

Danny just looked at me. "Couldn't you take care of yourself, Sam?"

"Oh, shut up!" I sputtered, "You know what I meant. I can deal with the violent ones, but not the criers!"

"Sam, I swear to God I don't understand you," Danny declared. "Hey, can you tell me what your name is?"

Cassandra sniffled. "Cassandra."

Danny smiled, "Hey Cassandra, why are you crying so hard?"

Cassandra's lip trembled. "Because I'm dead and I can't go back to living."

Danny nodded. "I know that's hard, but I've been dead for around forty years. You have to move on, okay?"

Cassandra wiped her nose with her sleeve. "But how do I do that?"

Danny shrugged. "You finish whatever you left unfinished, I suppose."

Cassandra nodded slowly. "Then can I move on?"

Danny nodded. "It works most of the time."

As I watched Danny work his magic on Cassandra, I started to wonder what he had left unfinished. Why was it taking so long? He'd been dead for almost forty years, so that would put his death around 1966.

"I think… I think I have to help my sister find my music."

That snapped me out of my trance. "Your music?" I repeated.

Cassandra nodded. "I am… er, I was going to be a composer when I grew up. I wrote a couple of pieces for the clarinet and piano. I played the piano and my sister played the clarinet. If I don't get them to her, nobody will ever find it. We were going to move to Oregon soon, so we have to find it soon!"

Cassandra panted, "Can you help me, Sam?"

I gave her a strained smile. "What choice do I have? When are you moving?"

"Next Tuesday." Cassandra answered.

_ Shit._

* * *

Cassandra had left a little while ago, promising to meet me tomorrow so we could plan something. Now I laid on my bed, studying the ceiling. I was aware of Danny sitting on the window seat across the room.

"Hey Danny? How old were you when you died?" I asked, almost regretting the question as son as I left my lips.

Danny glanced at me. "Is that a breaching of contract?"

I faltered. "I… don't know. I'm supposed to help you move on, so maybe we should start here."

Danny looked out the window and didn't answer. I thought that I had maybe struck a nerve, but it was only a few minutes before he spoke. "I was sixteen."

"Oh." I made a sad sound. I am only fourteen, so I could imagine dying that young. I raised myself up on my elbows to watch him.

"Well…" Danny turned to face me, sadness filling his eyes, "I was murdered."

A sudden gasp was wrenched out of my chest. _Murdered?_

"Oh, Danny," I began, unable to think of anything appropriate to say, "I'm so sorry."

Danny turned around so his back was to me. "But… it looked like a suicide."

I covered my mouth with my hand. "Who do you think it was?"

Danny's face contorted. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember? Why not?" I demanded, partly because I was so into his story, and it just might help him pass on.

Danny laughed, his voice sounding harsh. "I don't know, you tell me. Your guess is as good as mine."

I nodded sadly.

"I remember one thing, though… I died in the 1960s."

I looked up, shocked. This was going to help me a lot in my investigation.

I was going to find out what happened to Danny, even if it killed me.

* * *

_ Authoress' Concerns: Sam shows her loyalty to Danny. Already. Oh dear. Was that too soon?_

Cassandra bothers me, though. I've always imagined that Sam couldn't handle crying ghosts. Maybe the angry ones, but not the criers.

I know that Vlad is the name of the villain in Danny Phantom. Does anyone know his full (human) name? I'm blanking on it right now…

Thanks for reviewing. Now review again so the updating goes faster.


	4. Chapter Four

Just My Luck

Chapter Four

** I made a huge mistake. Sam's house is about fifty or sixty years old. Whoops. I'll fix it if I feel like it.**

This chapter: Casper references, Danny and Sam actually get along, and Sam confuses the hell out of Tucker.

"_I remember one thing, though… I died in the 1960s."_

_ I looked up, shocked. This was going to help me a lot in my investigation._

_ I was going to find out what happened to Danny, even if it killed me._

* * *

That night I tossed and turned, wishing the next day was Saturday. But because I have the greatest luck, tomorrow was going to be Thursday.

I was still affected by what Danny had said to me.

_ Why would anyone want to kill Danny? _I turned over on my side, curling up into a little ball_. Would someone hate him that much?_

Unable to sleep, I threw off my covers. I retrieved my purple fuzzy slippers from under the bed, and threw on a navy blue bathrobe over my pajamas. I grabbed a flashlight and a screwdriver, just in case.

Earlier today, I had noticed a couple of things about the window seat: The original color was yellow, there were screws underneath the cushion, and it was hollow.

As carefully as I could, I coaxed the seat cushion up, wincing when I heard a rip. I set it down next to me and grabbed my screwdriver.

_ What if there's a body in here? _I thought as soon as I put the screwdriver to the screw.

I tried to tell myself that that would be impossible. The body would have to be cut up in pieces to fit in the window seat's hollow.

Freaked out by that, I mentally added, _I would smell it anyway._

I had the first screw out. I began on the second one, only to find that I had to wrench it out the remaining fourth of the way. Soon, all five screws were near my feet.

I almost smacked myself for forgetting my gloves. I tiptoed back to the bed, ignoring the red digits on the clock that reminded me it was almost one. I lifted my gloves carefully out of my bag.

I slipped them on and grabbed the side of the window seat firmly. I tugged, giving it every ounce of strength I possessed.

It came loose with a slight _pop_.

A smile spreading across my features, I shined my flashlight inside of it.

It had to be at least eighteen inches deep and fifteen across it at the widest point. Inside, there were a bunch of newspaper clippings a little white cloth bag, dirty with age.

My curiosity piqued, I lifted the bag out and noticed that it felt almost heavy. I opened it. And gasped.

There was a pair of jeans and a white shirt stuffed down in there, a pair of shoes lying on top. It didn't even take me a nanosecond to recognize them as Danny's, but they were covered in something that was dried and brown.

Lying at the bottom was a gun.

* * *

After three hours of tossing, turning, shaking and shivering, I decided not to tell the police. Or Danny, for that matter. Then I fell asleep for five blissful hours.

I woke up in the morning to Cassandra shaking me awake. "Sam. Sam. Sam, wake up."

I groaned intelligently, "Gimme five mo' minutes." I rolled over and stuck my face in the pillow, snuggling deep into the sheets.

With inhuman force, the sheets were whisked off my body. I turned to see Cassandra standing her arms crossed over her chest, glaring impatiently at me.

"Fine, I'm getting up." I rubbed my eyes, "Just give me around an hour."

Cassandra tapped her foot. "We don't have an hour. My mother is leaving my house in about half and hour, and it takes fifteen minutes to get to my house."

I groped around for a hairbrush. "It's not your house anymore, honey, you're dead."

I swear that I could feel Cassandra's glare drilling holes in the back of my head. I quickly got dressed, making sure that I didn't piss her off.

I dressed in a black hoodie, my Converse, and carried gloves with me. I slung a tool belt along my waist, securing the flashlight into place.

Danny materialized by the window seat, looking amused at the scene before him: Cassandra, impatiently tapping her feet, and me, going crazy because I couldn't find a hair tie to tie back my hair.

Settling for a rubberband I found under my bed, I said to Cassandra, "How far away is your house, anyway?"

Cassandra shrugged. "A little while away."

"Crap." I declared, "I am so screwed."

Amusement was alight in Danny's eyes. "Do you need a lift, Sam?"

I said to him sarcastically, "Oh sure, you can fly."

Danny merely shrugged before scooping me up in his arms.

To say I yelled would have been an understatement. "I have to be in school in fifteen minutes, you ghosts!" I harshly reminded Danny, "Or Mr. Lancer will kill me."

Danny's smiling face was close to mine. "Like you haven't skipped before?"

"Wait… let me write Aunt Elma a note first." I wriggled out of Danny's arms, somewhat missing the heat that had radiated from him.

_ Ghosts don't have heat, Sam, because they're dead. It's just a figment of your imagination._

On a piece of paper that I left in plain sight, I scribbled, _Aunt Elma, my schizophrenia is acting up again. Sorry. I'm going to be late to school._

Danny scooped me up again and took off.

_

* * *

_

We set down in front of Cassandra's house, me shaking from the experience of flying high over the city, and Danny dusting off his white shirt.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" Danny winked at me, laughing.

"Oh, hardy-har-har." I grumbled, before mentally smacking myself.

_ There will be NO flirting with ghosts, missy!_

I started circling the house for an opening. Danny followed me, walking like any normal human being would… except for the fact that he was dead.

"Sam," Danny said, a laugh evident in his voice. "Do you need help getting inside?"

Instead of snarling at him and denying it, I turned around and said, "Alright, Danny Phantom, let's see what you can do."

Danny's shoulders shook with laughter. "Danny Phantom, that's a nice nickname."

He scooped me up again, despite my protests, and started flying towards the wall.

"Danny, no! Danny! That's a wall, and I'm a _human!" _I covered my eyes, forgetting to shriek.

Before I knew it… I was inside the house.

"Whoa." I whispered and Danny set me down. "Neat trick."

Danny gave a small little smile. "You pick things up after a while of being dead."

"Was that the first time you tried it?" I asked, waiting for Cassandra to appear.

"Yeah," Danny didn't quite meet my eyes, "I was lucky that it worked."

"Damn straight," Cassandra put in. "Or we'd have one useless stupid medium on hour hands."

"Stupid?" I repeated incredulously, "Excuse me, but who's doing your dirty work, Cassie? Huh? _That useless stupid medium_."

Cassandra flushed. "Fine. It's in my room." She took off faster than a human could follow, but I was able to…

…Because I was not your normal medium.

* * *

Fifty minutes later I walked into English with a late pass.

I knocked lightly on the door frame, "Excuse me, Mr. Lancer?"

It wasn't Mr. Lancer who turned around. Instead, it was a tired looking woman staring back at me. "Mr. Lancer isn't here," She said in a nasally monotone, "But who're you?"

For once, my luck was great. "I'm Sam Manson. I'm late, but I'm here."

Tucker looked up at me, relief spreading across his features.

The substitute nodded. I eagerly walked all the way back to my seat, turning to face Tucker.

"Did this town exist in 1963?" I asked immediately.

Tucker opened and closed his mouth, fishing for his PDA. "I think so. And why do you want to know?"

Oh, it's nothing. There's just a ghost inhabiting my bedroom that I'm more or less attracted to, and he just remembers that he died in 1963 yesterday. You see, I want to know who murdered him. I smiled wryly, thinking of Tucker's reaction to that.

Instead, I settled for, "Just curious. My house is around fifty or so years old."

Tucker looked at me curiously over the top of his PDA. "You live on Whipstaff?"

I scrunched up my face, trying to recall the name of my street. "Yeah, I do."

Tucker nearly dropped his PDA. "You live in the Fenton's old house?"

Everyone ceased their talking to stare at Tucker and me.

_ Score! A name!_ I mentally rejoiced, but concealed my delight in my answer. "If it belongs to an Elma Manson, then yeah, that's my house."

"But that's- but that's-" Tucker sputtered, grasping for words that he couldn't think of, "That's the most haunted house in the whole state! And not only that, it ranks as one of the most haunted in the Northeast!"

I blinked. "Really? I had no idea."

Tucker nodded enthusiastically. "You wanna come to the library with me after school? We can go there after school to look up your house."

nodded casually, though inside I was dancing for joy. "Yeah, that would be cool. Aunt Elma'll be thrilled to know that I'm making friends."

* * *

I endured the rest of the day, thanks to the knowledge that I'd get a few good notes on Danny's life. Tucker actually made quite the comical companion, as he managed to get on my good side.

"So, Sam, do you like Amity Park?" Tucker asked, flipping through something on a Palm Pilot.

"Yeah. It's nice. It's different than back home." I pulled my sweater around myself. Yeah, winter was cold, but who knew it could be _this_ cold?

"You know, Sam, you just might want to invest in a coat. You'll freeze before February."

I sighed. "I've only been here for about a week, Tucker. And I kind of rushed out the door this morning."

_ Or out the window is more like it…_ I thought bemusedly to myself.

Tucker nodded as he pushed open the door to the library. "I bet it's somewhere in here."

* * *

A little while later I was looking through newspapers dated 1960. There was nothing I wanted in January through March. But by May, I was losing hope. Then, finally, a title caught my eye.

_ Fentons buy one of the new houses on Whipstaff._

_ Whipstaff is a new street to Amity, opening up many possibilities to… _the article dragged on, describing that the houses would be around $100,000 to start.

I whistled. Those Fentons surely had money to throw around. The article mentioned a daughter and son- Danny and Jazz.

_ If that's not a freaky coincidence, then I don't know what's one,_ I shuddered. Is the Danny who haunts my bedroom the same Danny Fenton?

I went to one of the librarians who looked the oldest. "Excuse me, but I'm new to the town. I just found out I reside in the old Fenton house. Did anyone in the family ever die there?"

The librarian looked surprised. "Yes… you should look in or around May 1963."

I flipped through the newsreels, seeking out 1963. I went through the obituaries, halting when I came to May. I slowly scanned the names, looking for anything familiar.

Then on Wednesday, May 15th, 1963, I came to an abrupt halt. A shriek started building in my throat, so I clamped my hands over my mouth.

_ Daniel Fenton, 16. _Danny's face, so young, yet in different clothes, looked back at me.

_ Daniel Fenton, 16, dies of a suicide. Surviving are elder sister Jasmine Fenton and parents Madeline and Jack Fenton…_

I couldn't help it. I fell to my knees, surprising Tucker and everyone else in the library.

_ Danny? Danny committed suicide?__

* * *

_

**Authoress' Corner:** Can you tell that I'm faking all of the newspaper articles? Great. Who else (besides me) thinks that Danny and Sam should both start shamelessly flirting now, and fight like dogs in the in-between time?

And oh God, how many people are going to eat me alive for the suicide factor?

Yeah, review. It makes me happy.


	5. Chapter Five

Just My Luck

Chapter Five

** Oh, triple shit. Mistakes, details, mistakes! At least now I can somewhat explain it in the romantic subplot… see for yourself…**

This chapter: Sam goes searching, Danny and Sam have a disagreement, once again, Sam freaks the hell out of Tucker, and the authoress wonders why her readers are three-and-a-half steps in front of her.

If anyone does know of actual birthdays for the Danny Phantom characters, please tell me. I made up my own.

_ Daniel Fenton, 16, dies of a suicide. Surviving are elder sister Jasmine Fenton and parents Madeline and Jack Fenton…_

_ I couldn't help it. I fell to my knees, surprising Tucker and everyone else in the library._

_ Danny? Danny committed suicide?_

* * *

"Sam? Are you alright?" Tucker's question barely registered.

"Danny…" I whispered, not even noticing the stares of the people watching us.

"_I was murdered…"_

_ Wait… didn't Danny tell me he was murdered? _

Now, I felt like an idiot. I was getting all emotional for a ghost!

"Who's Danny?" Tucker asked, extending an arm to help me up.

I looked at him. _Did I really speak aloud?_

"Are you talking about the ghost?" Realization dawned on Tucker's face, "Oh, that's alright Sam, it's just a ghost."

"You know the ghost?" I gaped, "You know the ghost?"

"Yeah, everyone knows the Manson/Fenton house is haunted! Strange things go on there, boxes move, doors open and shut, and sometimes you can hear someone cry…"

_ Danny cries?_ My eyes widened. _I didn't know that._

"So there's nothing to worry about!" Tucker said, clapping me on the back, "Ghosts can't hurt you!"

Despite my shock, I chortled. _Ghosts can't hurt you, my ass._

"You want to get away from here? Ice cream? Pizza? It's on me." Tucker added, looking desperate for an answer.

I shook my head. "I'm just gonna go home, alright? I'll see you in school tomorrow."

Tucker nodded, though a little unsure.

* * *

I flopped facedown on my bed, hoping that no one (namely, the undead) would come and bother me.

Of course, I had no such luck.

"Sam!"

I lifted my head, blinking at the nearly transparent form of Cassandra in front of me.

"Thank you so much for helping me pass on, and I'm sorry that I was such a bitch sometimes." Cassandra grinned, but I still felt like smacking her.

"Oh, that's alright; you were one of the nicer ones," I said absently, and placed my head on a pillow again.

"Oh, and Sam? I think you just might want to search the attic for what you're looking for."

My head shot up and I managed to fall off of my bed. "What?"

But Cassandra was gone.

_ Okay, that was freaky. She knows that I want to find Danny's journal…_

I picked myself up off the floor and went out the door, in search of a stairwell.

I opened every single door on the second floor but found nothing, and I started wondering who the hell built this house, with its weird cut offs, and the basement that is smaller than it really should be.

Thoroughly ticked off, I tromped down the stairs, with the intention of asking Aunt Elma where the stairs to the attic were.

"Aunt Elma?" I called, peeking into the living room and in the hall, "Aunt Elma?"

I received no answer.

But then my eyes fell on a door I never noticed before, hidden away in a corner of the kitchen. Laundry baskets were stacked in front of it, along with last week's newspaper.

Thinking somewhat foolishly that this was my last chance, I shoved everything out of the way and then tried to open the door.

It didn't budge.

All but screaming with frustration, I gave the door a good, hard wrench and opened it. A narrow, old wooden staircase rose steeply before me, looking dusty and intimidating.

_ What am I afraid of? I'm a freaking medium. I can handle anything._

I cautiously worked my way up the stairs, holding on to the wall, only because there was no railing. The stairs went to stories up to an equally old door that was easier to open.

I found myself in an unused third floor that probably hasn't been touched in ages. There were only three doors; two bedrooms and one bathroom. I looked around in the bathroom, discoveringthat the water still ran.

The first bedroom was nothing special, so I went to the second one.

_ Bingo._

I glanced up to notice that it was one of those attic contraptions, you know, with the pull ladder from the ceiling and everything. After piling a good number of things on top of each other, and nearly breaking something, I got it open.

I put my foot on the first rung, wondering what I had gotten myself into.

* * *

I ascended the ladder, coughing as I kicked up dust. Boxes were stacked on top of one another. Eyes watering from the dust, I glanced around.

There was a lone, waterstained box placed in a corner. Those medium instincts kicked in and I went to get it.

The box was slightly heavy. I tried to shake visions of decaying bodies out of my head while I attempted to walk down the ladder, keep my balance, and carry the box at the same time.

As my luck would have it, I fell off the ladder. I expected to hit the ground with a painful _thump_, but I found myself in someone's arms.

I twisted around and saw that I was looking into blue eyes. _Danny's_ eyes.

_ This is _not_ happening… _I thought, mentally kicking myself_. As long as he doesn't recognize the box I'm in the clear._

"Hi, Sam. That would have been a nasty fall." He grinned at me.

I managed a grin back. "Heh, yeah, it would have been."

_ Put me down NOW so I can go research your past, damn it!_

"Danny, can you put me down? Please?"

"No," He said, drawing me in closer, causing me to blush rather hard, "Knowing your luck, you'll fall all the way down the stairs and knock yourself unconscious."

"No I won't!" I struggled against him, trying to free myself from his arms and keep my grip on the box at the same time.

"Watcha got there?" He nodded towards the box.

_ SHIT, HE NOTICED! _My mind screamed at me. I shushed myself_. Play it cool…_

"Nothing. Aunt Elma just told me to get this box from the attic."

"At nearly 3 am in the morning?" Danny raised a quizzical eyebrow at me.

"Yes." I stuck with my story.

"She's fast asleep, Sam. And so were you."

"What do you mean, I was- _HEY!_ Do you watch me?"

It was Danny's turn to blush. "No," He said, a little stubbornly, "I don't watch you."

"Then what do you do, stalk me?"

"NO! And speak for yourself! You're sneaking around in this house and doing stuff behind my back!"

"Wha- what?" I stared at him, at a loss for words. Then I found them.

"Behind _your_ back?" I bristled, "Well, excuse me, Danny, I didn't think I needed the green light from you before I went and did stuff!"

"Like what?"

"Like… like… find out about this house! And why it's so huge! And why there's a huge foundation but the basement isn't even seven feet by seven feet!"

We had arrived in my room by now. Danny dumped me unceremoniously on the bed while I clutched the corner in an effort not to fall right off it.

Danny seemed to deflate. "I only remember a couple of things from my life. And what is downstairs is one of them. I'll show you tomorrow."

"What? Not tonight?"

"Sam, you've got school tomorrow."

"So? I operate on Sam Time. I can do this."

Danny grabbed my arms. Before I could tell him to get his glowing hands off of me, he threw me off guard.

He stroked my face, and whispered. "Goodnight, Sam. We'll do it when you get home from school tomorrow."

Mouth agape, I didn't even protest when he dematerialized because I was in a state of shock.

* * *

Just as usual, I couldn't sleep. After tossing and turning for a few minutes, I gave into my curiosity and decided to see what was in that box.

I opened it, and as soon as I did I smelled old paper. There were only two things in it: a photo album and a collection of newspaper cutouts.

I set the photo album aside for later, and proceeded to nearly rip the newspaper clippings in my eagerness to see what they were. I squinted as I tried to make out a face.

It was a school picture of a smiling girl, big grin, and long hair. _Jasmine Fenton wins Annual Science Fair! _

_ That's right, _Iremembered_, Danny does have a sister._

_ I wonder if she's still alive._

The newspaper clippings got older as I went on. Soon enough, I had hit the interesting stuff.

The paper was old and sort of brittle and nearly undecipherable. Three people with the hugest smiles I've ever seen were enthusiastically grinning at the camera.

_ Three Scientists Are Closer to the Answer: Do Ghosts Exist?_

As I dug a little deeper, I found that the scientists- Maddie, Jack and Vlad, were hard at work, trying to find a way to actually communicate with ghosts.

Another clipping mentioned that Vlad was hospitalized because of an accident…

Maddie and Jack married…

And they had two kids…

Now they still did some ghost hunting and research in the off time because their kids were young…

The lab was in the basement…

_ THE BASEMENT!_

I almost fell off my bed. _I knew something was screwy with the basement! The foundation's got to be at least three or four times the size of the basement we have! Now, how did they conceal it and how the hell am I going to get in…_

And, as my luck works, suddenly I was hit with a huge wave of fatigue.

So, my luck working like it does, I just decided to lie back for a minute. And then I didn't wake until the next morning.

* * *

The next morning I stumbled into homeroom, bleary-eyed and in a tired mood.

"Rough night?" Tucker said, wiggling his eyebrows at me. He was fiddling with his beloved PDA.

"Stuff it." I yawned at him.

"Geez, someone's pissy this morning. What'd ya do, stay up until four in the morning researching that dead guy?" He put his PDA down, and then fished an mp3 player out of his bag.

I didn't answer.

"No way, Sam." He nearly dropped his expensive model as he stared at me. "Please tell me you didn't. He's been dead for more than forty years!"

"What would you do if I told you he haunts my bedroom?" I dropped my voice to a whisper.

"He _WHAT_?"

"Tucker! Shh!" I motioned for him to calm down. People were giving me strange stares.

The bell rang and then class began. All throughout the class, I was being bombarded by crumpled up pieces of paper, courtesy of Tucker. I kept twisting around in my seat (when Lancer wasn't looking) and glaring at him.

It didn't seem to work.

* * *

"What do you mean _he haunts your bedroom_?"

School was over. Hallelujah, weekends rock!

I sighed. And rolled my eyes. "Yes, Tucker, my house is haunted. I happened to have landed myself the bedroom with a ghost in it."

_ A rather cute ghost_, I reminded myself.

However, as soon as I sat down at the picnic tables with Tucker, his backpack opened all by itself.

"Huh. That's weird." Tucker commented.

His mp3 player then shot out of the bag, followed by his laptop, his cell phone, his Gameboy, and, of course, his PDA.

They hung in the air, suspended in a spectral glow.

"I am Technus!"

"Not again!" I groaned. I stood up, placed my hands on my hips, and then proceeded to confuse the hell out of Tucker.

"Will you give it a rest?" I addressed the glowing electronics, "I mean, please, just not today."

A green man then appeared in front of Tucker's things. "Are you that Sam girl they're all talking about?"

"What! They talk about me?" I squawked.

Tucker, I noticed, was staring at me with his mouth agape. His eyes were as round as golf balls.

_ At least he's not unconscious, _I sighed to myself.

"Yes, they do talk about you!"

He was starting to annoy me.

"Yeah, Technus, listen; can you just clear off now? You're not supposed to be here."

Bad choice of words. Technus bristled. "No one tells Technus what to do!"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. You made me do this."

I caught a glimpse of Tucker's flabbergasted face right before my fist slammed into Technus' nose.

"_WHAT_?" Technus shouted, blood dribbling down his face.

My knuckles smarted. I had managed to misjudge my punch and I had hit bone instead of cartilage.

_ Well, at least it's broken. _

"Do you know what they call me?" I hissed as I shoved Technus to the ground. I trapped him with a combat boot. "They call me Sam, and I'm a medium. This means that you don't mess with me."

Technus quickly disappeared.

"Sam?" Tucker's voice cracked. "Who the hell are you?"

Just as I was about to answer him, Danny materialized at my side.

"What are you doing here?" I retorted.

"I'm going to show you downstairs, remember?" Danny sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"Well I'm a bit busy if you haven't noticed." I snapped, motioning to Tucker.

"Well I'm _sor-ree_." Danny shot back. "Go ahead and finish, why don't you Sam?"

"I will, thank you very much!" I snarled, and then turned quickly to Tucker, "I can see ghosts. I can hear them. I can talk to them, and yes, as you just witnessed, I can punch them if they annoy me too much. I'm a medium. I'm supposed to help them cross over."

I mentally cringed, bracing myself for when Tucker leapt up from off the ground, running like a bat out of hell and screaming for all his life, _"THE GOTH IS CRAZY!"_

Instead, Tucker completely surprised me. "THAT'S SO FREAKING AWESOME!"

"Whaaa?" I intelligently responded, gaping like a demented goldfish.

"I said, that's _awesome_! It's so cool that you can talk to ghosts! I knew it! I'm not crazy! They do exist! THEY DO!"

While Tucker was having an epiphany, I turned to Danny.

"Yeah, life's pretty interesting in Amity Park. So what about that downstairs, and can Tucker tag along? He just might be able to help us…"

Danny shrugged moodily. "Whatever."

_

* * *

_

** Authoress' Corner:** Thank you Jimmy for helping me decide on the correct course of action. You rock. :)Wow, this was eight-and-a-half pages.Took me long enough, didn't it?

** IMPORTANT: **Band Camp starts this Monday the 14th. That means, soon after, will come school (AP Classes!) and the band season, which means you should really expect a screeching halt in writing and reviewing your fics. I'm sorry, but there's really nothing I can do.

** However… **please check my profile, from now on, at least once a week. I'm going to try really hard to keep you updated on what's happening. Also, I'm pretty sure that this is my last update until December.

** Please feel free** to PM me, though. I'll try to get back to you ASAP.


	6. Chapter Six

Just My Luck

Chapter Six

I know that I have been gone for a while. I have an explanation, but it's personal. Just take my word for it: I went through absolute hell. But I'm here now, ready to write fanfiction on weekends and when I don't have homework (which is like, never, I'm a junior with three AP classes).

Without further ado…

**This chapter:** Tucker, Sam and Danny investigate the weirdo basement, Casper references are sprinkled throughout, the romantic subplot thickens, and then Sam does some researching and almost gets killed (again).

"_Yeah, life's pretty interesting in Amity Park. So what about that downstairs, and can Tucker tag along? He just might be able to help us…"_

_Danny shrugged moodily. "Whatever."_

* * *

I didn't even need to convince Tucker to come along with us. He willingly obliged; his eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"So how long have you known you can talk to ghosts?" He jabbered excitedly.

"Since I was five," I answered.

"Were you scared?"

"No, because I had been seeing them all my life."

"_Really_?"

"Yeah. And I was three when I figured out that I was the only one who could see them. I knew they were ghosts when I was about five."

"How?"

"I watched Casper."

"You watched _that_ movie?" Danny asked incredulously. "That was one of the stupidest movies ever made! What an ill portrayal of ghosts and the supernatural alike!"

"Yeah, I watched it! I was young- gimme a freaking break!"

Danny nearly stopped in his tracks. "Why are you always so angry with me?"

"Because I am!" I snarled, unable to think of a wittier response.

"Whoa, hold it, hold it!" Tucker leaped in between me and Danny (or so he thought- Danny was at my right; Tucker was at my left) and held his hands apart. "Why do you guys fight so often?"

"Beats me." Danny said.

"Neither of us knows why," I told Tucker, "But my resentment might be explained by the fact that he _stalks_ me!"

"What?! I so do not stalk you!" Danny squawked.

"Yes you so do!" I shot back. "You've been following me ever since you told me you haunted my bedroom!"

"He really does haunt your bedroom! How _cool_!" Tucker crowed, forgetting that Danny and I were currently arguing and that he was playing mediator.

We both turned to glare at him.

"Come on," I sighed, "Let's get this over with."

* * *

We were staring at a blank wall of concrete in my basement.

"Well…" Tucker started, "This poses quite a problem."

"Yeah Danny _Phantom," _Isneered, "How're you going to get us through this one?"

I swear that Danny's glare could've frozen hell. "I'm going to fly you through it."

"Fine," I said snappishly.

"Geez, Sam, what's you're problem?" Tucker asked, "You're, like, the Queen of PMS today."

I sent him an equally cold glare. "Tucker, shut it."

Danny looped an arm around my waist and he linked arms with Tucker.

"Why are you holding my waist?"

He turned back to me, amusement lighting up his eyes. "Because your reaction is funny."

I twisted my mouth around, trying to suppress a grin and a sneer all at once.

A sudden tingle shot through me as we went intangible.

"We're going through," Danny announced and lifted off the ground, scaring Tucker.

We passed through the concrete and were at the other side in no time.

Danny let go of us and our solidness came back into place.

"Can all ghosts do that?" Tucker asked, amazed.

"I don't know," Danny admitted.

"He doesn't know." I relayed to Tucker.

"Ohhh," Tucker was then silent.

"Now," Danny said, "It should be behind this door."

"What's behind this door?" I asked.

"I don't remember… not exactly… it's something to do with my parents…s"

Danny, with his inhuman-ghost strength, wrenched the rusted door open.

It was dark.

"You know, it would be much better if there was a light."

"Taken care of!" Tucker announced. He lit up his LCD screen to its maximum brightness.

"I don't need a light," Danny answered, which left me with Tucker to search for a light switch.

The light from Tucker's PDA screen was just enough to see where we were going. We searched for about two minutes before Tucker gave a cry of triumph.

"I found it!"

"How can you tell?" I twisted my neck around to look in Tucker's direction.

"It has a huge sign on it that says **LIGHTS**, that's why." Tucker grinned.

I had to admit that I cracked a grin as I flicked the lights. The lights flickered on, startling Danny.

Danny stopped in his tracks, his back to us.

"Danny?" I ventured.

He slowly turned around.

"I remember…" He whispered.

"What?" I repeated.

He bounded over to me and grabbed me by the shoulders. "I remember, Sam, I remember all of this!" He gave me a tiny shake.

"That's- that's great!" I smiled, but inwardly there were battles being fought

_He's going to go away soon!_

_I can't believe you! You let yourself get attached! You can't get attached in this business!_

_I don't care! We almost get along and now he's going to go!_

_Shut up! This isn't going to help any- this is why we do everything so coldly and professionally- because we're human!_

I already knew that I was insane, but having two Sams fight inside my head was a bit much.

"Sam, things are throwing themselves up in the air." Tucker informed me, hiding behind me.

"That's just Danny. He remembers everything now." I shook the internal battle off and attempted to be professional.

"So Danny, what exactly is down here?" I asked, trying to get this investigation back on track.

Only because it was an investigation after all. I had to help Danny so he could move on.

His face lit up. "The Necromancer!"

"Huh?"

"What'd he say?"

"He said the Necromancer," I relayed, remembering that necromancy had to do with raising the dead.

"Yeah, cool," Tucker nodded enthusiastically, "So… where is it?"

Danny opened and closed his mouth. "I don't know. I… don't remember."

I closed my eyes in frustration and relief. _Back to square one._

* * *

Tucker went home, only after making us promise that we wouldn't further the investigation without him. Danny flew me through the ceiling and into the living room, right before he took off and disappeared.

"Sam! Dinner!" Aunt Elma called.

Sitting down at the table (veggie burgers and Ceasar salad- _yum_), I asked her off-handedly, "So, Aunt Elma, where did you get this house from?"

"Oh, some older lady, a Ms. Fenton, was selling it."

_Danny did have a sister… _My head reminded me.

"Do you recall her name?"

"Yeah, it was Jasmine- Jasmine Fenton. I think she's still alive. She lives in the Harvey Community."

I nodded, spearing a piece of lettuce with my fork. I made a mental note to Google her later on.

We continued to talk a bit before I went upstairs.

"Hey, Aunt Elma, can I use that computer in the office?"

"Yeah, sure…" She said absentmindedly, telling me to forget about the dishes in the meantime.

I dashed to the computer. As soon as the Google page was staring me in the face, I typed in _Jasmine Fenton._

In about a second, I had too many articles to read at once. I clicked on the first one and started reading avidly.

I discovered that Jasmine went on to study psychiatry for the sole reason of her brother's unexpected suicide. Before then, she was planning on being a brain surgeon, but the suicide shook her up so much that she turned to helping other teens.

"_I never quite got over Danny's death," Fenton says in a small voice, "I just didn't understand; I felt abandoned." She takes a deep breath before continuing, "It was then that I decided I had to help other kids his age. And here I am now, this famous adolescent psychiatrist, and I'm still not finished mourning my brother's death…"_

Another article, ran by Ghosts of America, went so far as to quote her, _"I know he's a ghost. And I'm never going to stop looking for him. He's out there; I can _feel_ it."_

Chills raced all up and down my spine. _You don't have to look too far, Jasmine…_

I quickly Googled the Harvey Community, searched for her name, and found her address. I wrote it down on a scrap of paper, and decided that I'd somehow find a way to write her a letter.

* * *

I was snoozing peacefully until someone grabbed me by my ankles, violently jerked me upwards, and slammed me into a wall.

Even though I was awake as soon as I felt cold hands on my ankles, nothing had registered until my side hit the wall.

I let a hiss of pain escape my lips, and "Who's there, damn it?!" followed soon after.

A girl's laugh responded me. Shivers raced down my spine. _This is not going to be good._

"Well, well, little medium," She began, still invisible, "Let's see how well you can _fight_."

I felt a hard shove in the center of my back. I whirled around, my fists up to protect my face, and then was promptly kicked in the ass.

Despite the fact that I was basically screwed, I snarled, "Why don't you just fight me? Are you afraid of the big bad medium?"

"No, I'm not." She responded.

I felt a fist collide with my temples.

Pain exploded inside my skull. Biting my lip to prevent the whimpers from escaping, I took a wild swing.

A laugh answered me. "You're gonna have to fight harder than that, medium."

"Then show yourself!" I challenged her, "Show yourself!"

I was kicked in the chest, a wheeze escaping me as I fell backwards onto my bed.

"The only mediums I like," the girl began, "Are dead ones."

I wasn't afraid at all before she said those words.

_Oh my G- _I barely had time to finish my thought before she shoved me down on top of my bed, whisked the pillow out from under my head, and pressed it to my face.

Like I mentioned before, ghosts have inhuman strength. And if they're determined enough, yes, they can kill people. This particular ghost was going to smother me.

I tried to scream. I wasn't stupid; I knew when I was licked. In vain, I tried to shove her off me, throw the pillow off my face, but nothing was working. In fact, it seemed to just drive her to kill me.

_Oh please oh please oh please let me live through this, _I silently begged.

I was starting to feel dizzy from lack of air._ Someone help me… help me…_

Once again, I tried to push her off me, but she only laughed and laughed and laughed. There really wasn't any hope left…

_DANNY!_

At that second, the pillow went flying off my face, followed by a cry of rage.

I gasped for air, sitting up as quick as I could (giving myself a headache), and watched with wide eyes as Danny let loose.

"Who the hell are you?" He snarled, apparently having the girl ghost in his hands. "_Who are you and who sent you?_"

The girl laughed, and it apparently she'd made the wrong move.

"Don't you ever touch her again!" Danny shouted, shaking her, looking like he wouldn't mind killing her again, "Don't you ever go near her, and don't you dare hurt her! Do you hear me?"

"Just do me a favor," I heard the girl say, "Next time, don't save her, but just remember my name."

Then she was gone.

Despite the situation, a warm feeling suddenly flowed through me. Danny apparently cared about me enough to keep me safe. Even though I prided myself on being independent, it was nice to be taken care of once in a while…

Then Danny _really_ shocked me. I was suddenly drawn up into his arms, my face pressed into his collarbone, and he let out a shaky breath.

Of course, by now, my face was _burning_. He was hugging me. I was not used to this kind of physical contact with a ghost. Mostly, they just want to break my necks, not hug me.

"Oh, Sam," He murmured into my hair, "What I am going to do with you?"

I almost gave into the spike of annoyance that came after that statement, but I decided that I really liked being pressed against Danny's chest and kept my mouth shut.

"I'm alright, Danny," I settled on responding, "No one's trying to kill me now."

"But why would anyone try to kill you?" He asked, drawing me in even closer, "You're not that bad… you're kind of… nice…"

I went an even deeper shade of red, if it was possible to do so. It was the first time anyone- especially of the opposite gender- had called me _nice_.

And, granted, it was a dead teenager from the sixties. But hey, I wasn't complaining.

He had regrettably loosened his grip on me so he could stare me in the face. "Why are you so angry all the time?"

I opened my mouth, but realized I had no explanation. After searching for a few seconds (with my mouth open the whole time), I finally answered, "No one understands me. They all think I'm some sort of freak, talking to someone who isn't there; someone they can't see."

"But you're not a freak." He answered.

I gave a small smile. "Yeah, I know I'm not, but after a while words start to get to you. I'm only fourteen- turning fifteen in two weeks, after all. And, if you really get down to it, no one in my family understands-"

"Except for Aunt Elma," Danny finished for me, "She tries so hard to understand you. You really should talk to her sometime, just let her learn how hard it is to be who you are."

I nodded, now starting to wish that he'd never let go of me, and said in a very small voice, "I've got no friends, either, except for you and Tucker… but mostly you…" I trailed off, thoroughly embarrassed now.

He drew me into a hug again, causing the girl inside me (that I haven't quite squashed just yet) to squeal with delight, and then drew me away again, almost nose to nose with him.

_Oh, my God. _It was then that I started panicking.

_He's going to kiss me. No, he's not. Yes, he so is, because why would he be staring at me so intently if he wasn't going to kiss me?_

Half of me was freaked out by the fact that my first kiss could very well sbe coming from the undead. Half of me wouldn't have minded him to kiss me.

It was that last thought that told me that I was in trouble.

Instead, he scooped me up in his arms, bridal style, and laid me down on my bed.

Part of me was utterly relieved, and another half of me was extremely disappointed. He watched me get in under the covers, and then promptly informed me that he was going to sit by my bed all night, so as to make sure no other ghost tried anything.

After a while I was falling asleep, and I could've sworn I heard him say something.

"Sam… can I keep you?"

* * *

**Authoress' Corner:** I've been dying to throw in a lot of Mediator and Casper references. Didja notice them?

And, you stupid people, I've mentioned time and time again that I've read the Mediator series so many times I can probably recite them.


	7. Chapter Seven

Just My Luck

Chapter Seven

**This chapter:** The trio goes exploring, along with more flirting. They also find some answers… who could ask for more (the shippers could, but all in good time, my friends. I PROMISE).

_After a while I was falling asleep, and I could've sworn I heard him say something._

"_Sam… can I keep you?"_

* * *

When I woke up the first thing I saw was Danny still sitting by the side of my bed. A warm feeling swept through me; he'd stayed with me all night.

It took all of my self-control not to melt into a puddle. I was stronger than that. I was a vegetarian feminist and no one -not even a cute dead boy- was going to stop me from being who I am.

"Morning," I said cheerily.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," I was having a hard time working this stupid smile off my face. "You know, I kind of slept like a rock after almost dying and all."

I grinned over at him, silently thanking him for coming to save me last night.

"C'mon, Sam, get up." He nudged me slightly.

"Why? Today's Saturday."

"Exactly. That's why you're going to get up-" And here he hauled me out of bed, "-so we can go exploring downstairs."

"You're going to show me around downstairs?" I asked excitedly.

Danny shot me a smile that made my heart skip a beat. "Of course. We've got nothing better to do."

Very, very, very psyched but not going to show it, I followed him downstairs, after making myself a bagel.

I followed Danny downstairs. His arm slipped around my waist as he phased me through the wall.

Trying to calm my suddenly racing pulse and bright red face, I turned to face him. "So, were you and your dad close?"

"Yeah… I mean, he was kind of this giant ghost dork, but we were close." Danny's voice dropped to a quiet tone. "When I died… he just fell apart."

I nodded. "How hard is it to watch your family just fall to pieces?"

"It was the hardest thing I ever had to do." Danny answered. "It's hell… it's absolute torture."

"Did it ever get easier?"

"It's been hell for the last forty-something-years, but right now…" Danny's sudden gaze on me made me lose my breath- "It's gotten better."

I found my mouth suddenly dry and my mouth went completely blank.

* * *

Danny's memory was extremely fuzzy, but it was still pretty good.

"It's got to be around here somewhere. There's some sort of button… I think…" He murmured to himself, alternating between walking around and flying between opposite ends of the lab.

He was making me dizzy. "Should I just hit you? Then will you remember correctly?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Maybe, you never know."

"Then come over here," I playfully brandished my fist, "The undead have frequently informed me that I have a killer right hook."

Danny cracked a smile so dazzling it was hard to look at. "Yeah, but your bumbling charm is almost better."

I opened and closed my mouth, trying to decide if I should be flattered or offended. "_Hey_. That was not fair!" I childishly said, whapping him in the arm.

"Who said I was fair?" Danny grinned right back at me.

I stuck out my tongue, like I was four instead of almost fifteen.

Danny laughed.

I smiled and leaned back into a table, trying to look cool. Instead, I hit some sort of button that depressed way into the table, and I wound up pitching backwards. _Typical, me and my luck… _I cursed inwardly as I fell, bracing for the impact.

But Danny was there with his ghost reflexes to catch me. "Gotcha."

Dizzily, I looked up at him, "That you do."

He set me on my feet, and his eyes got very wide as he stared at something behind me.

I was looking at a portal that was quite randomly rising out of the ground.

"Is that it?" I asked, my voice hushed.

If it was what Danny was looking for, it meant that Danny was probably going to go soon. And just when we were getting along, too…

My luck _sucks_.

"No," Danny responded, "It's something else."

"Huh?" Was my intelligent response, "What's something else?"

Danny shook his head slowly. "It's the Ghost Portal. My parents and Vlad were convinced that ghosts spent time in this so-called Ghost Zone. They claimed it had something to do with the ecotoplasmic matter and the space-time continuum." Danny looked at me, "That is, of course, utter bull crap. I, of all people, should know."

I nodded. "So does it actually do anything?"

"It almost killed Vlad."

My eyes got wide. "Really? How?"

"It short circuited on him. He got electrocuted pretty badly- he was in the hospital for months with burns and other things. It was in the meantime that my parents started dating-" Here he started laughing "-Imagine how that looks. One get injured and the other two start dating right away?"

I had to laugh in agreement.

"Yeah, but, I think my dad left some sort of instructions on how to operate The Necromancer inside of the portal somewhere. We'll look in a few hours when Tucker gets here."

* * *

The few hours passed quickly between mine and Danny's banter-flirting. I was really starting to hate myself between the flirting and the reminders that he was dead after all. And his being dead meant that I had a mission- I had to cross him over.

And by now, I _really_ didn't want to do it.

"…Jazz and I fought like crazy all the time. I mean, we loved each other but we fought about _everything_. Who did the dishes, who got the shower first… anything worth fighting over was fought over." Danny grinned, his look faraway. "God, I miss her. I'd do anything to see her again."

I perked up at that. "We could, uh, Google her and find where she lives."

I tried to keep my voice nonchalant and keep him from guessing that I had already done just that. I don't know why I suddenly felt so guilty about it.

I absently checked the time on my cell phone. "We should call Tucker now. He'll _kill _us if we explore without him."

"Technically," Danny said with a grin, "He'd kill only you. I'm already dead."

I stuck out my tongue at him, unable to think of any response.

* * *

"I cannot _believe _that you went exploring without me!" Tucker exclaimed in mock-outrage as soon was he walked through the front door.

"You don't happen to live here," I reminded him, "And Danny was so damn excited this morning he couldn't wait for you to get here."

"But it's not _faaaaiir_," Tucker whined, "How come you're all cool and ghost-enabled and I'm not?"

I burst out laughing. "You call being "ghost-enabled" fun? And cool? Man, do I need to set _you _straight."

"Meaning what?" Tucker asked, "It's not like they try to kill you or anything."

I looked at him. "See this bruise here?" I lifted my hair aside so he could see where homicidal girl ghost had slugged me last night. "That was from a late-night visitor last night. She tried to suffocate me."

Tucker's eyes widened. "Why?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. I generally get that vibe. Either they try to tear my head off or they cry on me. Danny's the only normal one."

Danny grinned another heart-stopping grin at me as he phased both me and Tucker through the basement wall and into the lab. "Thanks, Sam."

I smiled back at him, "Anytime, Danny."

"But I just wish I could see them…" Tucker sighed. "It would make this whole thing easier without you having to play interpreter."

I nodded. It was getting annoying. "You never know what forty-year-old technology

they have lying around. Hey Danny, do you know of anything that might help Tucker here?"

Danny shrugged. "Check one of the boxes. They might have something."

I nodded, suddenly thinking of the box-obsessed haunt.

As if on cue, our old friend appeared. "I AM THE BOX GHOST!"

Tucker yelled. "Aaaaah, who's here?"

"No one, he's harmless."

The overall-clad ghost came zooming over to me. "I AM THE BOX GHOST! You have called me, oh great and terrible medium. What is it that you want?"

I looked at him like he grew three heads. "I didn't call you."

"But how do you explain my sudden appearance?" The Box Ghost said, "You called, and I appeared. I heard your desire to find something… IN A BOX!"

I sighed. "Alright, fine, yes I called you. We're looking for something that can help Tucker here see ghosts," I looked at the Box Ghost, "Can you find anything?"

The Box Ghost appeared insulted. "Miss, I am the Box Ghost! All things encompassed in boxes are at my command!"

Danny raised his eyebrows and tried to keep from laughing. I looked at him, as if to say, _Well, what are we gonna do? We have to start somewhere._

Then the Box Ghost took off, zooming crazily around the lab. I ducked as he flew overhead, shouting his mantra at the same time.

I glanced over at Tucker, who looked to be on edge.

"Sam." Tucker whispered, his voice shaking, "There's a… _ghost_ here."

Danny rolled his eyes at Tucker. "_I'm _a ghost too, if you haven't noticed."

"Danny says that you're an idiot, he's a ghost too. And like I said, the Box Ghost is harmless," I waved my arm around, "The worst he can do is throw a box at your head."

Tucker still looked shaken. "He won't try to kill me?"

I shook my head. "Nah, he's harmless."

Then the Box Ghost chucked a box in our general direction. It came sliding right in front of Tucker. Tucker looked questioningly at me.

"Go ahead open it. It won't bite." I said.

Tucker nodded. Inside the box there were several pairs of goggles, each one more ridiculous looking than the rest.

"What the hell?" Tucker asked, holding up a pair that had something that looked like a cross between palm trees and antennas sticking out from either side.

Danny started chuckling. "That's one of my parent's and Vlad's first projects. They're called Seers."

"How original," I said dryly, "Danny says they're called Seers."

"Yeah, and those might bite." Danny laughed, "My parents weren't the most skilled inventors."

"Danny says watch out. Those aren't exactly safe," I told Tucker.

Tucker's brow furrowed and I sensed the geek in him coming to the surface. "Oh, these should be easy enough to fix!" Tucker exclaimed. He glanced around the lab. "I should be able to get a pair of these working properly within a half hour!"

"Really?" I asked, "That would be awesome. Why don't you get to working on it?"

"Sure thing!" Tucker was nearly bouncing with excitement, as if he couldn't wait to get his geeky little hands on the glasses.

I smiled. "Have at it, Geek Boy."

"Your wish is my command, Ghost Girl."

* * *

**The authoress says:** I'm _so _sorry this took so long. How about I make it up to you and give you chapter 8 in a couple days... since I've already in the middle of writing chapter eleven.

That's right. _Madame _went ahead and wrote four chapters in three days. :D

So **review**, and on your way back out, visit my profile and **vote** in my poll. Thanks.


	8. Chapter Eight

Just My Luck

Chapter Eight

**This chapter: **This is one helluva chapter. Tucker's hilarious and beware the sixties, man. Also- a slight bit of S/D is good for the soul… and the sanity of my reviewers! (And hey look, I updated when I said I would!)

"_Sure thing!" Tucker was nearly bouncing with excitement, as if he couldn't wait to get his geeky little hands on the glasses._

_I smiled. "Have at it, Geek Boy."_

"_Your wish is my command, Ghost Girl." _

* * *

Tucker took refuge in a corner of the basement with various screwdrivers and other hardware. He plugged one of the glasses into his PDA and started screaming when the glasses suddenly came to life and attacked his face.

Danny removed the glasses calmly. "See? I told you they might bite."

I laughed, "Danny said he told you they might bite."

Tucker scowled. "I thought he was joking."

Tucker continued to rummage around with the glasses while Danny tried to figure out how to turn the Ghost Portal on.

"Do we really need to turn it on?" I asked twenty minutes later.

"Who knows. Maybe we do. Maybe it can help us find the Necromancer," Danny answered, looking for a way to turn on the Ghost Portal.

"I thought this thing was dangerous," I commented.

"Sam…" Danny gave me a look that clearly said I was being an idiot. "I'm dead. What more can be done to me?"

"Point taken," I mumbled to myself. Then to Tucker I shouted, "Hey Tucker, are you having any luck over there?"

"Actually," Tucker said, his voice muffled as his head was halfway into a box, "I think so."

Tucker held up a pair of simple goggles, only green with earphones. "These could help!"

"Do they bite?" I asked sarcastically.

"They haven't attacked me yet." Tucker shot back, but he seemed to falter. "Okay, here goes nothing."

He put them on his face and stuck the earphones in his ears. Then he immediately screamed.

"_SAM! _THERE'S THIS GUY STANDING RIGHT BY YOU!" Tucker ran behind a table.

I sighed and muttered to myself, "Amateur..."

"Sam, is he alright?" Danny asked, turning to me.

"_AAAAHH, _I CAN HEAR HIM TOO!"

I rolled my eyes. "Tucker! That's just Danny!"

Tucker peeked out from behind the table. "Are you sure?"

I looked at Danny. "I'm quite sure, thank you very much."

Tucker eyed Danny warily. "This is weird, man. He's like, dead and all."

Danny crossed his arms, annoyed. "I happen to be right here, you know!"

I was on the verge of smacking myself in the head with my hand. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

After only an hour of looking through millions of boxes Tucker decided to call it quits.

"Look, guys, I bet I can fine-tune these glasses if you let me take them," Tucker began, "I can fuse them with my own and somehow create ear pieces that you can't see."

I shrugged. "Do as you like, I guess."

Tucker looked ecstatic. "I can't _wait _to get started on these!"

While Tucker was having a little geek moment, I looked at Danny. "Will you get us out of here?"s

Danny smiled and my heart fell through the floor. "Of course."

My heart thudding, I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. There was something clearly out of balance- maybe I was overtired. I mean, I had been attacked nearly twenty-four hours before. That can take a lot out of a person, medium or not.

But when Danny slipped his hand around my waist in order to phase us through the wall, my heart accelerated. It was then I started to wonder if I could blame my overactive heart all on exhaustion.

There had to be some other key factor.

* * *

Tucker went home, and Aunt Elma called me in for dinner. We ate salads, and she asked me how my day went. I didn't say much, only that I explored the house.

It was almost ten at night, and Danny was nowhere to be found. I had taken a quick shower, so now I was dressed in ratty old sweats and a hole-y t-shirt. I looked under my bed quickly and pulled out the box I'd snitched from the attic only days ago.

I rooted through it. There wasn't much, only old clothes (Danny's, I figured). But there was a leather book lying wrapped up in an old t-shirt. Intrigued, I picked it up.

It was Danny's journal.

I was instantly curious. To read it or not to read it, that is the question.

I didn't want to betray Danny's trust. Now that I've grown so stupidly attached to him, I didn't want him angry at me in any way, shape, or form. I felt like snooping through his journal- through a life he didn't remember- would really betray his trust.

But on that note, he didn't remember. I was a medium after all- and at some point, I was going to have to help his pass on. As much as I didn't want to do it, I had an obligation. His memory had to come back somehow. Something had been keeping him here for forty years, and it had to be brought to light soon.

Grappling with myself, I decided to just open the damn cover and see what it said.

_December 25__th__, 1961_

_This is some Christmas present. _

I snapped the journal shut, but then I started to feel like an idiot. I mean, Danny was freaking dead after all.

Yes, but... he's still _here_.

I opened the journal once more, feeling extremely guilty, but I started to read.

_Come on, no bike? A journal? Who do they think they're kidding anyway?_

_Alright, maybe Mom and Dad and Vlad are so caught up in that stupid portal thing that Dad forgot to get presents… again. I mean, Jazz just got shampoo, and I got a journal… maybe someone did do some shopping at the supermarket last night. _

I rolled my eyes and started to flip through the journal. The random musings of Danny- when he was probably thirteen, I guessed, wouldn't have much to do with why he died, who murdered him, or what was keeping him here.

I flipped randomly through the pages. He turned fourteen on March 3rd… and started high school in that same year, 1962.

Then in the middle of his freshman year… _There's this new student Valarie Grey. She's nice and she's tough. Her brother's over in Vietnam… so she has to be brave for him, she says. Some kids tease her because she's black, but I think she's a real nice girl anyway._

I rolled my eyes yet again. Trust the only thoughts on a fourteen-year-olds mind to be on girls and school. It's nice to know that not much was different back in the sixties.

I flipped through another year.

_Dash is teasing me for my parents again. He calls me "Danny Phantom"- like I haven't heard that play on "Fenton" a million times. He only thinks he's special because he has a varsity letter jacket as a sophomore. _

I wondered then if the Dash that teased me nowadays had a father back in the sixties… and then I remembered that Dash had a "junior" tacked to the end of his name. So maybe "asshole" really is genetic.

_Valarie and I are talking more often. She's really pretty and I'm surprised I never noticed that before. She's got this smile and this laugh that just stays with you. She never teases me for my parents and I never tease her for her brother over in Vietnam, even though a lot of kids are harsh on her for that. _

_We pass notes all the time and she's really funny. She's even been over my house when Dad kept lighting stuff on fire (by accident) and she was laughing the whole time. She even ran and got the fire extinguisher and asked if Mom needed any help. Mom laughed, but then she gave me this look that was like, 'Don't lose this girl. She's special'._

_And she really is. _

Something that felt alarmingly close to jealousy started raging through my veins just then. Who was this Valarie Grey? And why was she so special to Danny?

Well, maybe she wasn't so special if he didn't remember her over forty years later! Ha. Take THAT, Ms. Grey.

Then in January there was a sudden change of tone.

_January 12__th__, 1963_

_Something weird's going on with Vlad. I don't know exactly what, but it's something. He always seems so sneaky now and really secretive. I mean he was always secretive, but it's more so now._

_January 20__th__, 1963_

_Something is definitely going on with Vlad. I was him tinkering around with the Ghost Portal today… he didn't see me. It was probably a good thing since he was switching wires around… maybe he's doing secret repairs for Dad, since Dad's pretty much helpless when it comes to electronics. He could just be doing something nice… but I have a weird feeling about this._

I remembered that Vlad Plasmius was one of the scientists working with Danny's parents. I started to get chills… maybe…

_February 2__nd__, 1963_

_Vlad's stopped tinkering around. Maybe I shouldn't worry so much. I mean, he is a scientist and a sophomore that can barely pass chemistry really shouldn't be passing any judgment. He probably knows a lot more about that machine than I do. _

_Anyway, I'm asking Valarie to the Valentine's Day Dance tomorrow!_

_February 5__th__, 1963_

_Valarie's pretty sick. She's been out of school since the third so I haven't gotten to ask her yet. I hope she's okay. There is a nasty flu going around. I know, Jazz had it and she was out of school for a week. _

_February 10__th__, 1963_

_Valarie's brother is MIA in Vietnam! No wonder she's been out of school. He disappeared around the DMZ… and that's pretty dangerous. I hope he's okay, both for his sake and for Valarie's. I called her, but she sounded pretty upset. She said she'll go to the Spring Fling in the beginning of June with me instead._

I was definitely jealous now, only I wondered why. Danny was my friend- at least, I hoped- so there was no reason for me to get jealous. Especially since all of this had happened over forty years before. I wasn't even born then, so why did I feel so jealous… and like kicking Valarie's ass?

The entries started to get interesting at the end of March.

_March 28__th__, 1963_

_Vlad is definitely up to something. I'm going to find out. He's started to mess with the Ghost Portal even more now. I know he knows that once finished, the Ghost Portal will not work. Ghosts don't come when called. _

_So why is he messing with it?_

_April 2__nd__, 1963_

_Bad news from Valarie. Her brother's dead._

_April 7__th__, 1963_

_Valarie's brother's funeral was today. It was really sad… it was even raining outside. Valarie sat up front with her whole family and cried the entire time. My heart broke for her… I would be inconsolable if Jazz died. _

_I gave her a hug and told her to call me if she wanted to. She kissed my cheek and told me I was the nicest boy she'd ever met. _

_Jazz gave me a knowing smile the whole time she drove me home. She just thinks she's sooo smart because she's seventeen. _

_But anyway, do feel really bad for Val. _

I did feel bad for Valarie at that point. Losing your brother had to suck… and she was about to lose her best friend in a little over a month as well.

_April 18__th__, 1963_

_The Ghost Portal is working again. I guess that I've always known it wouldn't work… it was a stupid idea anyway. But my parents are so excited about it that I couldn't say anything._

_Vlad is working overtime on it now. Maybe he's been trying to improve it all along, without my father around to knock over tools or trip over electric cords. Maybe I've been wrong to suspect him of tampering with it. _

_April 23__rd__, 1963_

_No. Vlad isn't trying to fix it._

_He's trying to sabotage it. _

_He's trying to make it shoot sparks. Why he wants to do this, I have no idea. Of more important news, Valarie's back in school as of yesterday. The teachers are really nice to her now, and the mean it…_

I rolled my eyes. Trust Danny not to focus on what was important- like his parent's life's work being ruined, but instead on the cute girl from his class. Alright, her brother did die, and that was horrible… but still! His life is at stake and he doesn't even know it!

_April 29__th__, 1963_

_I've figured it out! V-_

"Sam?" Said Danny's voice, "What are you doing?"

* * *

**Authoress says:** Haha, how's that for a chapter? I hope you enjoyed. This story is really started to pick up steam- I'm practically on chapter twelve. So who knows, maybe I'll have the whole thing done by the end of summer!

And once more, I ask you to **review** and then **vote in my poll.** PLEASE!


	9. Chapter Nine

Just My Luck

Chapter Nine

**This chapter:** Bleh, this chapter is sort of filler-ish. So I tried to make it more interesting (i.e., flirting and ghosties) but it didn't work so well. :(

**Now for a rant:**I'm pretty upset about the _**quality**_ of my reviews. There was only a few decent reviews- you know who you are. For the love of Christ, could you please gimme some feedback other than "OMG CUTE CHAPPIE UPDATE?" Tell me what you liked. Tell me what made you laugh. Tell me what you want to see more of- ghosts, Tucker, etc.

For the love of God, make me _**want**_ to write.

**And now for the regularly scheduled chapter…**

"_Sam?" Said Danny's voice, "What are you doing?"_

* * *

With lightening fast speed I stuffed his journal under my pillow before he turned around. "Nothing," I answered innocently.

"That's good," Danny answered. He paused, and then looked uncomfortable.

"Is something wrong?" I asked. Had he seen me with the journal?

Danny frowned. "I wanted to… I mean I hoped… what I'm trying to say is…"

Danny trailed off. I looked at him calmly as he gathered his thoughts.

"Do you want me to watch over you?" He blurted out.

Taken aback, I asked, "Why?"

Danny smiled softly, "You seem to be a magnet for troublesome ghosts."

I bristled, "Now see here, Danny, I…" The wind was taken out of my sails at the sight of his bemused, but genuinely concerned, face. "I guess."

Danny smiled another breathtaking smile. "Good. I'll sit in that window seat and keep watch."

I smiled back as I slipped into the covers. "Night, then, Danny."

I closed my eyes and flipped off the light.

"Good night Sam," I heard him whisper.

I could have sworn, as I was drifting off to sleep, that I felt someone stoke my face.

* * *

I woke up to Aunt Elma calling me.

"Sam? Are you awake?"

I rolled over and muttered something incomprehensible. I opened my eyes blearily and took note of Danny still sitting on my window seat, watching whatever was going on in the yard.

For some reason that made me smile.

"Yeah, I'm awake."

"Good, get up and get dressed. I'm going to take you shopping today."

I groaned and considered going back to sleep. "Is it really urgent?"

"The weather is calling for snow… so most likely, you're going to need a coat."

I rolled out of bed. "I'm up, I'm up…"

"Good. I'll make breakfast." I could hear her walking away.

"Good morning, Sam." Danny turned around and smiled at me.

"Yeah, g'morning," I mumbled back, shuffling to the bathroom. I heard Danny laughing behind me at my grogginess.

I showered, got dressed and ate breakfast… cringing at what lay in store for me. I hate shopping with a passion. Aunt Elma drove to the nearest mall.

"Your parents gave me some money to get you coats. I really suppose you didn't have much need for coats in California," Aunt Elma said conversationally.

_Yeah, _I thought to myself with a touch of homesickness.

"Not really," I said, for Aunt Elma's sake, "It never really got cold there."

Aunt Elma smiled. "You've never really experienced an upstate New York winter, have you? It snows all the time, just you wait and see. I'm actually surprised it hasn't really snowed yet- it's almost Christmas!"

Snow? _Snow? _Lucky, lucky me.

I must have made a face because Aunt Elma laughed again. "It's not that bad, Sam. You'll get used to it."

"Ew. Snow just means it's too cold for rain."

Aunt Elma's face brightened. "Don't worry. I have a feeling you'll get used to it. You're adjusting to life quite well here in Amity. You already have that friend Thomas."

"Tucker," I corrected, "And yeah, it's not so bad here."

* * *

I was browsing through pea coats and other full-length dress coats when I saw him.

He was, of course, giving off that _Hey-look-I'm-dead! _vibe. But that didn't stop him from looking sort of hot. He was dressed up in a leather jacket (though my inner vegetarian did recoil at the sight of such animal abuse) and his hair was long… but he looked like a total rebel without a cause.

Why there was a ghost wandering around in Burlington Coat Factory, I'll never know. But hey, life is weird… especially at Amity Park.

As soon as he saw me looking at him, he disappeared. I frowned but didn't think anything of it, as I continued to browse through brightly colored jackets.

I turned aisles, trying to find something sensible and warm, like Aunt Elma instructed. I found a dark purple coat that I instantly fell in love with- it was fleecy and warm on the inside, but also totally punk-ish, so I hung it over my arm. Then I saw her.

For some reason I got the impression of a cat. She was wearing a scarf, a jacket just like the other ghost's… and the most awesome miniskirt I've ever seen. I vaguely wondered where she had gotten it- or what era, seeing as she was dead as well.

Like the other ghost, shealso saw me looking at her. "What are you looking at?" She hissed.

"Nothing," I shrugged. _I'm just admiring your bitching skirt. _

"Well you better watch your back," She spat as she advanced towards me, "Because we're all watching you, you little medium."

I stared at her. "Huh?" I said, intelligently.

She threw back her head and laughed, "And he told us to look out for you. He told us to be careful around you. But what are you? You're just a little _girl._"

She disappeared, her ghostly laugh still ringing in my ears.

I shook my head slowly as Aunt Elma came around the racks. "Did you find anything, Sam?" She asked.

I nodded and showed her. "Just this so far. Maybe I'll only get one coat."

"Get two. Your parents gave me enough money for four, but I think we should hold on to some of this money… you will never know when you'll need it."

I smiled despite myself. Aunt Elma was cool. "Really? I saw this really cool pea coat a while back…"

* * *

When I got home I put my new clothes away- mostly jeans, sweaters and sweatshirts- and opened Danny's journal again.

_April 29__th__, 1963_

_I've figured it out! Vlad is trying to kill someone. I just don't know who, or how he's trying to do it._

_It was something he said yesterday on the phone… something like, "But soon he'll be out of the way so it won't matter anymore."_

_At least I'm hoping that he's implying he's going to kill someone. If I get enough evidence on him I'll go to the police… but I don't want to seem like a worrisome kid jumping to conclusions. Teenagers aren't exactly believable, especially these days._

_May 3__rd__, 1963_

_Nope, he is trying to kill someone. I still don't know who yet. But I went through his notes yesterday, and it was all on electrocution, electricity and volts and amps and other stuff I don't understand. _

_It looks pretty serious. I'm thinking that maybe I should go to Mom or Dad about it, but they might not believe me. I want to tell Jazz too, but she'll just make fun of me._

I started to get a weird feeling… although I already knew that Danny had to die, I didn't want him to- he had such a promising future. He had an (almost) girlfriend, loving parents…

_Who knows. She doesn't like Vlad all that much either. She might believe me. So I'm just going to wait until I find out who his target is, or if I have an idea of who it might be. _

_May 7__th__, 1963_

_I really don't know who Vlad is trying to kill. He's a really nice guy (despite his apparent homicidal urges, I guess) and he doesn't have any enemies. Nor is the government on his back about anything. I just really don't know what to think._

_May 10__th__, 1963_

_Vlad is up to something again. He was playing around with the Ghost Portal today… and then he said, "Aha!"_

_He saw me and demanded to know what the hell I was doing down in the lab. I played innocent and said that I was looking for Mom. Vlad then told me that she was upstairs in the attic, putting some supplies away. _

_I think that Vlad knows that I'm onto him. _

_May 16__th__, 1963_

_I figured it all out. I know who Vlad is trying to kill. I know why he's trying to kill that person to. I don't want to say anything, since it looks like my journal is being read from time to time. I don't think it's Jazz- she'd say something. And Mom and Dad would just ask me… so I don't know who's going through this. But once Jazz goes home tonight, I'm going to tell her. At least she takes me seriously. _

_Anyway, Jazz and Mom and Dad are out tonight. They're looking at a college and I get to stay home. _

_Hey wait. Someone rung the bell. I'm going to go see who it is. More later!_

That was the last journal entry.

I put the journal down and put my head in my hands. After reading his journal, I hadn't gotten anywhere. There were no clues, no leads, nothing. I put the journal in one of my clothes drawers, and shut it, thinking.

I went back to the box where I'd found Danny's journal and rummaged around through there. Of course there was nothing… and I cried out in frustration again.

At that moment, Danny materialized. "What's going on, Sam?"

"Nothing," I said sourly, kicking the box back under my bed. "I'm just not looking forward to school tomorrow, that's all."

"School's not that bad," Danny offered, extending a hand to help me off the floor.

I made a face. "That's what everyone says. But c'mon, Danny, don't you remember what it was like to be a teenager?"

Danny's face darkened. "Not really, actually. I don't remember… anything. Not my friends, not my teachers… just my family."

"Hey," I punched him lightly in the arm, "But you've got me now. Who knows, maybe we can do a little sleuthing to help get that memory of yours back. We might even find out what's keeping you here."

Danny's eyes narrowed at me as I sat down on my bed. "I thought we weren't to invade each other's privacy."

Oops. He had _no_ idea. "I didn't mean it like that!" I said quickly, "I mean, like, we can go looking through old newspaper articles or go find some family pictures or something."

Alright, I hadgone through old newspaper articles- and worse, read his journal. But it wasn't like he really revealed anything- only that Vlad was up to something and that Valarie was cute.

Danny relaxed. "Good. I thought you were going to say something like 'let's read your journal'. Not like I had a journal… or did I?"

I stiffened. Oops again. "Maybe we should go looking for it? I mean, if it would help figure out what's keeping you here it could be of importance." I squeaked out.

Danny shook his head at me, his eyes sad. "Do you really want to get rid of me, Sam? Am I really just another ghost to you, another project? Don't I matter to you?"

"Danny…" I began, rising up from my bed slowly, "It's not like that."

"It's not like _what_?" He spat, seemingly more mad at himself than at me. He turned around and faced the wall, "I'm dead, Sam. Maybe you should cross me over- I don't belong in this world… in your world."

I tried to fight the sudden panic rising in my chest. "Danny, don't think like that."

"Like what?" He whirled around, and only then did I notice how close I'd walked to him.

"Like you don't matter to me," I all but whispered. We were nose to nose again.

"Do I?" He whispered back, his eyes searching mine.

I nodded, "A lot. I… care about you." I ducked my head, "You're not a project; you never were. You're smart, funny… and you're… my best friend…"

I trailed off and continued to stare at the floor. But then I felt Danny's hand lift up my chin so we were facing each other eye-to-eye.

My pulse quickened as I tried to decide what to do next. Move away? Hug him?

…Kiss him?

Danny seemed to be fighting some internal battle as he looked at me, more intensely than I was used to. My breath hitched as we leaned in closer…

And then Danny just held me to him, his face in my hair.

* * *

**Authoress says: **So I know I promised more frequent updates (and yet again I have to eat my words)… but from now on, the updates will be fewer and far between. I'm going to try to get a decent chunk of this story written before I update again. That way I can update during the school year (and football/competition season) without actually having to squeeze writing in around homework.

So expect maybe one or two more before September, mmkay?

And please **review**. With _quality_.


	10. Chapter Ten

Just My Luck

Chapter Ten

**This chapter:** Yet again another wonderful filler chapter (please note sarcasm), but now it seems that a little bit of Stephanie Meyer is getting infused in this story. See here for yourself- but sorry to disappoint you, these undead don't drink blood. And… um, more D/S anyone? –dodges happy fans-

And **thanks** for the reviews- much improvement. Keep it up, thanks.

_Danny seemed to be fighting some internal battle as he looked at me, more intensely than I was used to. My breath hitched as we leaned in closer…_

_And then Danny just held me to him, his face in my hair. _

* * *

That night I dreamt of him. I was following him down the school hallway. A pretty black girl stopped to talk to him, he laughed at what she said and they walked on together. It was like I was tethered to him as I stalked him silently. Then the scene switched, and Danny was in the basement, watching a dark figure send sparks flying from the Ghost Portal… the figure turned to Danny, pointed a gun, and fired.

I woke up screaming.

I shot up in bed, shaking. I threw back my covers and pulled my knees into my chest. Danny was nowhere in sight.

_Maybe that's a good thing, _I thought to myself as I tried to stop shivering. I pulled a sweatshirt over my head and I decided to go get something to drink.

I left my room quietly. It was three am by the kitchen clock. I opened the refrigerator door, grabbed a carton of soymilk, and shut the door. Then I turned around.

Standing in my way was the miniskirted-girl from the mall. I gasped, but hung on to the carton of soymilk. She was glaring at me again.

"What- what do you want?" I asked hoarsely.

The girl continued to glare, but the knives on the rack behind her started to shake. The hair started to rise on the back of my neck, as I wondered whether to run or stay and fight.

"You're being too nosy for your own good," The girl finally said conversationally, as though she was not shaking knives with her ghost powers, "You better stop investigating, little medium, if you don't want to go the same way as your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," I said automatically, and cringed internally. I must sound like an idiot.

"We're watching you," The girl said again, and one knife flew from the rack to the floor at my feet. "Be careful."

Then she was gone. I froze for a minute, but I bent to pick up the knife. I put it back and poured myself a glass of soymilk.

"Sam?" It was Danny.

"Hey," I said, my voice still shaking.

A concerned look appeared in his face. "Are you okay? Are you cold or something?"

I shook my head and said, "I just had… a late night visitor, that's all."

Danny took a seat next to me. "What did she want?"

I cursed internally and tried to get my hands to stop shaking. "Oh, nothing…" I said nonchalantly.

_She just wanted to throw knives at me and threaten me. It's no big deal. _

Danny seemed to know that I wasn't being completely honest. "Okay, then." He dropped the subject and watched me slowly drink my beverage.

"Are you really okay?" He said, quieter this time.

"Mhm," I nodded, swallowing. "She just… threatened me, that's all."

"She threatened you and you act as if it's no big deal?"

"Danny, I get threatened a lot," I tried to calm him down, because now instead of looking concerned, he just looked angry, "And at least she didn't _throw_ the knife at me."

Oops. Damn my awful luck and my inability to keep my mouth shut.

"_KNIVES?_" At that point, Danny scooped me up in his arms and held me to him. Normally, I would have enjoyed this… but talk about your overreaction!

"Danny, it's fine. No seriously, it's fine. I'm okay," I said, as he was looking at me more incredulously with every passing minute, "And, um, can you put me down? I _can_ walk you know."

"Fine." Danny dumped me unceremoniously on the titled floor.

"Nice aim," I said sarcastically, motioning towards the chair that was only a foot away. I got up and tired to convince him one last time that I was okay.

"Look Danny, the thing about me is that I get negative attention a lot from the undead." I began as I started to walk towards the stairs.

"Oh, no doubt," Danny snorted. I scowled at him.

"Anyway, as I was saying, every once in a while some undead soul threatens me because I'm doing what I do best-"

"Getting in trouble?" Danny interjected.

"No, investigating and solving problems."

Danny looked at me sideways as we started to ascend the stairs. "I thought that you weren't doing any investigating."

_What IS it with my blabbering mouth tonight?… _"I'm not. Right now, I mean. But you never know, she could just be one of the homicidal ones."

"Okay," Danny said, though his tone told me he wasn't entirely convinced.

"And Danny…" He turned around to face me a step below him. "I really can take care of myself. I promise."

And then I proceeded to trip and start on what would have been a nasty fall…

…If Danny hadn't caught me. "Nice, Sam. All you try to do is prove to me how independent you are, and then you nearly kill yourself doing something ordinary."

I scowled sourly at him, but my frown couldn't say long when that killer smile was working its magic on me.

I noticed that as we walked back to my bedroom he didn't let go of my hand.

* * *

Even though it was Monday I managed to smile a little bit. Christmas Eve was Thursday, so we only had school for three days!

School passed uneventfully. I asked Tucker how he was doing on the glasses, and he told me he'd run into a few problems but he should have them sorted out within a week.

Nothing was new, except that Dash threw a book at me and told me I looked like a clown (the purple lipstick was probably to blame). It was when I returned home that things started to get interesting.

When I opened the door Aunt Elma was there to greet me. "Sam!" She said wildly, a strand of Christmas lights trailing behind her, "You need to help me!"

"Help you do what?" I asked, "Decorate?"

"Yes!" Aunt Elma cried as she set down the box of lights. "Now where did I leave the tree ornaments?"

"They're here," I called, picking up a box clearly labeled _Tree Ornaments. _

Aunt Elma and I decorated well past dinner. We ordered pizza and ate it as I did my homework- thank God she understood algebra. She even showed me shortcuts, giving me the simplest way possible to solve problems.

In addition to the algebra problems, I had my own ghostly problems to deal with. I decided that I should go ahead and write to Jazz, Danny's older sister. Maybe she could provide some insight as to why Danny was murdered… or why he stuck around for so long.

I went online to Jasmine Fenton's internet site and sent her an email.

_Hello, Ms. Fenton… I'm not quite sure how to write this email. I think the best way to do it is to just tell you. My name is Samantha Madison, I see ghosts, and I live at 666 Whipstaff Avenue in Amity Park, New York. _

_There's a ghost that resides here that I think you'll want to contact. Please call me. _

I left my phone number for her and sent the email. I killed about an hour reading the rest of _Catcher in the Rye_ and I began to draft a rough essay. Then I noticed that I had a new email in my inbox.

Jasmine Fenton had replied.

_Ms. Madison,_

_You are not aware that the house you live in now was once my own. You say that you are psychically enabled, and that you see ghosts on a regular basis… including the one residing in your house. _

_I will call you tomorrow at about 4 pm to discuss this ghost of yours. _

_Best, Jasmine Fenton. _

I turned off my computer and decided to call it a night. I slept peacefully that night, although Danny did not return. The next morning, he was there.

I awoke to find Danny looking at me. "Good morning," He said.

I rolled over. "Five more mintues," I groaned into my pillow as I pulled my covers over my head.

The covers were whisked away from by body without Danny even touching them. Damn him and those telekinetic ghost powers. "You better get up, Sam, you're gonna be late."

"Why?" I moaned, and rolled over.

I had twenty minutes to get to school.

"Crap!" I cried and leaped out of bed, my lethargy dissipating. I ran to wash my face. "Where's Aunt Elma?"

"Gone," Danny answered. "She went to get milk and completely forgot that you had school."

Trust my luck to land me with an absentminded aunt. "Damn it," I cursed again, applying eyeliner with record speed, "I am so going to be late."

"Not if I can help it," Danny laughed, "I can get you there."

I stopped applying mascara in order to look at him. "Oh, thanks a million Danny. You're awesome!"

Danny seemed to blush. "It's nothing, really…"

I threw on some jeans and an old concert shirt in the bathroom as I brushed my teeth hurriedly and threw my hair into a ponytail. I skidded out the door as I stooped to grab my backpack.

"Ready!" I cried, crashing into the door as I tried to exit it.

"Sam, don't rush. You won't be late."

"I better not be. Lancer will _kill_ me if I am!" I said around bites of the Poptart I was currently inhaling.

"Isn't that a little extreme for a teacher?" Danny raised an eyebrow and stifled a laugh as I ran to the other end of the kitchen to grab lunch money.

"Have you ever _met_ Lancer?" I asked him, my eyes wide for effect.

"Nope. Maybe someday I will," Danny smiled down at me, my heart skipping a beat or two.

I frowned internally. _I better get a handle of myself,_ I cursed, _or I'll be heartbroken when he leaves. _

Without a moment's pause, Danny scooped me up in his arms. "Up, up and away we go."

Danny turned us both invisible and intangible as we flew. He only turned visible as he let me down a block from school. "See? You still have ten mintues."

I grinned. "Only thanks to you."

And with that I threw my arms around him in a hug. Danny stiffened, seemingly shocked by the outburst of affection I was showing. He let me go and smiled again, but this time it was sadder.

"Bye!" I waved and took off running down the pavement, my Converse pounding.

* * *

To say that my day was boring would have been an understatement. In English, Lancer literally made us make a circle with our desks and talk about _Catcher in the Rye_ and "what it meant to us".

Seriously. The last thing I ever wanted to do was discuss- with my classmates- about how warm and fuzzy the ravings of Holden Caulfield made me feel, and how I empathized with his feelings toward the loss of innocence. _NOT._

Please. I would _throw_ those damn kids out of that field of rye. The sooner they grow up, the better.

The rest of the day was not much better. My Algebra teacher yelled at me for using shortcuts. My Biology teacher had a fit when I said that I refuse to dissect frogs in January. Then at lunch, Tucker was absent and I was left to getting pelted by paper balls, courtesy of Dash and Kwan.

My only salvation was that Jasmine Fenton was going to call at four, and my investigation would really begin. Needless to say, I nearly ran home. Danny was nowhere to be found… which, again, was probably a good thing considering what I was going to do.

The phone rang at exactly four.

I picked up. "Hello? Sam Madison speaking."

"Samantha Madison? This is Jasmine Fenton."

I smiled. "Hello, Ms. Fenton."

"I understand that you currently live in my house."

"It was just brought to my attention by you-" A lie, but she didn't need to know that, "-and yes, what I wrote is true. There is a ghost in this house."

"And you can see him." It was not a question, but merely a statement. Did I detect a waver in her voice?

"Yes. He's tall, he has black hair, blue eyes. He's wearing a white tshirt and jeans… and sneakers."

"_Danny_." Jasmine gasped. I heard a clatter on the other end, which must have meant that she'd dropped the phone. "Have you spoken to him?"

"Yes…" I wondered how much I could tell her, "He tells me that he was murdered in the 1960s."

"Murdered? No, Danny wasn't murdered, he killed himse-" Jasmine stopped short. "Did you just say _murdered_?"

"He told me so himself. In 1963, a gunshot wound to the chest." Well, judging by the state of Danny's old clothes that I'd once found hidden- in my windowseat hollow, of all places- it was to the chest.

"Do you know who the killer is?" There was urgency in Jasmine's voice. "Maybe that is what he was trying to tell me before he died."

"He doesn't remember." I heard silence on the other side of the phone, so I decided to elaborate. "It's common in ghosts, though. Some of them don't remember a thing about their lives."

I heard a watery intake of breath on the other side of the phone. "What does he remember, besides the circumstances of his death?"

"He remembers his family. His sister- _Jasmine Fenton_- especially."

I definitely heard someone in tears on the other side of the phone, "Ms. Fenton, he was trying to tell you something before he died. He may not remember what, but I found his journal- there was this person named Vlad. Danny believed that Vlad was up to something with-"

"The Ghost Portal," Jasmine finished for me. "Look Samantha, it's been great talking to you… but something has suddenly come up. I'd like to talk again later. Feel free to email me."

"Sure thing, Ms. Fenton. And call me Sam, please."

"Sam, then. Well, goodbye Sam."

"Talk to you later Ms. Fenton."

And it was as I pressed the "Talk" button to end the call that I saw Danny's eyes on me. He looked simply murderous.

"Sam," There so much anger laced through one syllable. I'd never heard my name sound so evil before. "Would you like to explain yourself?"

* * *

**Authoress says:** Uh oh. What's gonna happen? Guess you'll have to stick around to find out.

Thanks and **review**.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Just My Luck

Chapter Eleven

**This chapter: **Fights! Pondering! Angst! Realizations! Tucker! Ghosts! Obliviousness! Shakespeare! Christmas! (aka, an extremely freaking random chapter :D)

It's been brought to my attention by **myhiddensecret** that's Sam's Jewish. Um… oops? Let's just pretend she's Christian for the sake of this story- and hey it's an AU. I'm sorry if you don't like it, but just deal, okay?

And another public service announcement: thanks for the reviews!

_And it was as I pressed the "Talk" button to end the call that I saw Danny's eyes on me. He looked simply murderous._

"_Sam," There so much anger laced through one syllable. I'd never heard my name sound so evil before. "Would you like to explain yourself?"_

* * *

"Um, well, you see…" My mouth went suddenly dry. I stopped talking.

"Do go on," Danny crossed his arms and leaned against the couch, "I really want to hear this."

I swallowed. "Please don't take this the wrong way-"

"Don't take _what_ the wrong way?" Danny asked icily.

"My investigating," I hung my head, "I'm sorry, I should have told you-"

"Told me? You should have asked me before you went ahead and started invading my privacy!" The pictures on the walls started to shake with Danny's anger, "And worse yet, you lied to me about it!"

"I said I'm sorry," I said defensively, "Look, Danny, I'm a medium, it's what I do. I investigate."

"Then what am I, just another charity case ghost to you?" Danny's eyes narrowed and the pictures shook harder. One fell to the floor and shattered.

"No!" I exclaimed, "I already told you you're not! But the thing is, Danny-"

"No, Sam, the thing is that you betrayed my trust," Danny's eyes locked frigidly on mine, "And that's pretty unforgivable."

Another picture fell to the ground and Danny dematerialized before I could retort.

I was left staring at where he once was, shocked. I knew I deserved it, but I at least wanted a chance to explain myself. I wasn't trying to hurt him or invade his privacy at all… I only wanted to help him.

And I screwed up.

I sighed, defeated, and went to get a dustpan and broom to pick up the broken shards of glass from the picture. As I walked to the hallway closet, Aunt Elma caught sight of me.

"Sam! Sam, honey, I am so sorry about school this morning. I am the worst aunt," Aunt Elma began, but then she caught sight of my face, "Are you okay?"

I retrieved the dustpan and broom. "My schizophrenia," I sighed, "Has gotten me in a heap of trouble with the ghost here."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Bless Aunt Elma. What a nice lady she is, absentmindedness aside.

I shook my head. "I made him pretty angry. I'm just going to go clean up the mess of glass."

"Be careful," my aunt advised.

I nodded. "I will."

When I went to go turn over the picture that had fallen and shattered, due to Danny's anger, I realized it was the most recent school portrait of me.

* * *

Later that night I sat on my window seat and waited for Danny to appear as I finished my homework.

I planned what to say to him: That I was sorry, so sorry, and that I would never do it again without asking him first. I would say that I am an idiot of massive proportions and that my curiosity got the best of me.

I would emphasize that I never wanted to hurt him, but I only wanted to know what had tethered him to this world for so long. And no, I did not want to cross him over, but I merely wanted to understand.

I watched the minutes slowly tick by on my alarm clock, and the minutes turned into one hour, an hour and a half, two hours.

It was nearly ten and Danny hadn't shown.

Finally, at eleven, I went to bed, defeated, confused, and hurt.

What if he never came back?

* * *

The next day I went to school without any problems. Tucker took one look at my face and kept his distance. I went through school, not speaking unless asked any questions.

Mr. Lancer flounced around the room in English, passing out copies of _The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet._ I slumped farther in my seat and stifled a groan. A tale of star-crossed lovers was so not what I needed right now. We began on Act One, and Mr. Lancer took special care to, er, "act out" the prologue.

"TWO HOUSEHOLDS!" Mr. Lancer bellowed, "Both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene…"

I considered stabbing myself with the pen. This was beyond painful. I'd rather take another crack at the homicidal girl ghost who'd visited me almost a week ago than listen to _this._

"…From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star-crossed lovers take their life…" Mr. Lancer boomed, thumping an occasional desk for emphasis.

Tucker looked just as tortured as I was.

"…The which of you with patient ears attend; what here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend!"

Then, joy of joys, the bell rang.

"Read all of Act One!" Lancer yelled at us as we students fled his class, "There will be a quiz when you get back in the new year!"

"Geez, what a moron," Tucker said as soon as he caught up with me.

I fiddled with the combination on my locker before replying, "Yeah, well, that's Lancer, I guess: too excitable about everything. At least he loves his job."

"Yeah," Tucker snorted. "Oh, and Sam? I've nearly got those glasses figured out!"

I faltered. "That's great."

Tucker noticed the change in my voice. "Hey, is everything okay?"

I shook my head and said, "Not really…" Then I told him about my snooping, and the fight that ensued.

"Well," Tucker said, "Good luck with that. I'm sure Danny'll come around."

I offered a weak smile. "I hope he does."

I grabbed my Biology textbook and went to class.

* * *

When I got home, I checked under my bed, merely curious. Danny's box was gone, of course. I don't know what I expected.

I sat on the window seat, attempting to read Shakespeare, as I waited for Danny to materialize. Maybe he needed time to cool off. After all, an entire day had gone by. After an hour had passed with me trying to translate Shakespeare into something I could understand, and failing miserably, I gave up on Romeo's and Mercutio's blathering about rosesand went to help Aunt Elma bake cookies.

I also tried to put the thought of Danny never returning out of my mind. The thought of that was unbearable, unthinkable. But as I decorated cookie after cookie, and as hour after hour slid by, I began to worry.

What if he never came back? What would I do then? I would be hurt, of course… but would I get over it? After all, I had done something incredibly stupid: I let myself fall for him.

Yes, it's official: I have the _worst_ freaking luck in the world. I, Sam Madison, am in love with a ghost. A _ghost_, if you didn't hear me properly.

_I am an idiot of epic proportions_… I thought bitterly to myself as I stuck gum drops on a gingerbread man, _Why, why, WHY did I have to fall for a ghost?_

* * *

I flopped on my bed angrily that night. Tomorrow would be Christmas Eve. I will have been in Amity for three weeks.

In that time span, I'd made a few friends, made a few enemies, wrecked whatever friendship I'd had with Danny, and to top it all off, I fell in love with said ghost.

I laid back on my purple-silver-black bedspread and took out my hair elastic. I shook my hair from its ponytail and finger-combed it, thinking.

Maybe Danny wasn't gone. Maybe he was just wherever ghosts went when they dematerialized. Maybe he was invisible but watching me. Maybe he would come back to me and apologize, moved by the Christmas spirit.

_Yeah, and maybe Dash will cure cancer…_ I thought scathingly to myself, and punched the pillow in frustration, then I held it over my face for a few minutes, thinking.

A sudden change in the air alerted me that I had an undead guest. I sat up suddenly, the pillow in my lap. "Danny?" I asked.

My mirror started to shake. "Danny?" I tried again, "Is that you? Listen, I'm sorry…"

When my compact came flying at me I knew it wasn't Danny. I ducked just in time, the compact crashing into the wall.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, ducking my mascara tube as it made a beeline for my head, "What's the big idea?"

I heard a ghostly laugh as my entire makeup bag upended itself on the floor, makeup scattering everywhere. Then as quick as it came, the ghost was gone.

I considered punching something. I could tell already that this holiday was going to suck majorly.

I turned to look at my full-length mirror and stopped dead. There, in black lipstick, words were scrawled across it. _Watch yourself, medium,_ the words read. I shivered, but I squared my shoulders as I started to search for makeup remover.

Watch myself on what? What could I possibly be investigating that could draw so much poltergeist attention?

Was it Danny's murder? Were the true motives behind that event so sinister that it was calling up undead attention forty years later?

True, once I had experienced a similar thing before. A murderer, dead for seventy years, came crashing in to deter me from working on a case. However, I'd found the victim's body anyway and turned it over to the police… but only because they'd found me sneaking around on government property. This was probably motivation enough to send me clear across the country.

But even still, why would it call up a horde of ghosts- not that two girl ghosts, the girl with the miniskirt and the one that attacked me while invisible- make up a horde, but there was that undead man traveling about in a leather jacket.

But even still… was it the case of Danny's murder that was drawing so much (unwanted) attention to me? What, exactly, what I going to find if I dug a little deeper?

I fell into an uneasy sleep and didn't wake up until early the next morning.

* * *

**Authoress says:** Oho, the plot thickens. Stay tuned to find out what happens.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Just My Luck

Chapter Twelve

**This chapter: **Christmas and some major D/S. wo0t.

I toldja there could be a Christmas miracle. :D

_But even still… was it the case of Danny's murder that was drawing so much (unwanted) attention to me? What, exactly, what I going to find if I dug a little deeper?_

_I fell into an uneasy sleep and didn't wake up until early the next morning. _

* * *

I rolled over and checked the clock- six am. I groaned but decided to get up anyway. I took a lengthy shower. Who knew what kind of obligations Aunt Elma had on Christmas Eve, anyway? I changed in the bathroom out of habit, but my negativity reminded me that Danny wasn't around to see me without clothes.

Irritated, I ran a hairbrush through my hair and styled it into a bun. I _hated_ Christmas. Something told me that today was just going to be just _wonderful_, as I had already stabbed myself in the eye with my mascara brush and I managed to wake up way too early for vacation.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Danny was giving the cold shoulder. It had nothing to do with it whatsoever.

Fully dressed and ready for the day, I headed down the stairs at seven am. I ate some corn flakes as I turned on the TV and tried to find something that wasn't a Christmas special. I ended up watching the Weather Channel until Aunt Elma came down the stairs to make coffee.

"What are you doing up so early, Sam?" Aunt Elma asked, yawning.

"I couldn't sleep," I said as I stared at the local radar.

"Anything wrong?" She scooped out coffee grounds and poured water into the coffee maker.

"No… I woke up early," I explained and paused. "We have snow coming," I added.

Aunt Elma smiled and started to sing, "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas…"

"Stop," I moaned, "Please do not subject me to Christmas jingles."

"I won't, don't worry. What do you want to do today?"

"Watch movies." I answered, "Ones that have nothing to do with Christmas. Except maybe the first _Die Hard_."

Aunt Elma looked quizzical. "The first _Die Hard_ is a Christmas movie?"

I shrugged and rinsed out my cereal bowl. I said, "It takes place on Christmas Eve."

"Good idea. What other ones then?"

"You choose," I told her.

* * *

And that was, essentially, how I spent my Christmas Eve. Aunt Elma rented all four _Die Hard_s, the fourth of which gave me newfound respect for geeks. I would never look at Tucker the same way again. Who knew that geeks could be capable of technological Armageddon?

The hour was closing in on ten. Aunt Elma switched off the weather report and announced she was going to bed.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" I asked as she got up from the couch.

She paused. "Nothing, really… maybe Mass and we'll visit our neighbor's house. Give out our cookies."

I nodded as the phone rang. Aunt Elma answered it, but then her face darkened. "Sam, it's for you."

I reached out my hand, took the phone, and placed it at my ear. "Hello?"

"Sammy-kins!" My mother crowed. It sounded like she was on her cell phone at a swanky Christmas party.

"Mom?" I said incredulously. They had avoided calling me for three weeks, and now they had the nerve to call me- on Christmas Eve no less.

"Your father and I just wanted to know how you were holding up in Avon," I could practically see my mother simpering around in a designer gown, a glass of champagne in her hand.

"It's Amity Park, Mom," I said coldly, "Don't you remember where you sent your only daughter?"

"Oh, whatever. Anyway, your father and I are getting on a plane tomorrow…" My mother trailed off.

I froze. Was she going to come and visit? My mother had made it explicitly clear in the beginning that I was staying in New York for the remainder of my freshman year. But was she coming to visit me, finally? Say something to me face-to-face?

"We're going to Aruba! Isn't that fun?" My mother had placed her hand over the phone, but I could still hear her, though her voice was slightly muffled. "No, of course we aren't bringing _her._ She'd muck up the whole trip with her depressing attitude and horrible black clothes!"

I blinked, shocked. Is this how my mother really felt about me? I stood up from the chair I'd been sitting in.

"Sam? Are you still there?"

"I'm still there," I said numbly.

"Well, have a good Christmas. Give my love to Aunt Elma! Buh-bye, darling." And she left me with the dial tone.

I set the phone back, still in shock. Was my mother such an airhead that she'd think I couldn't hear her? Did she want me to hear her?

What was wrong with my _family_?

* * *

As I ascended the stairs into my room, my mood started to plummet. Things were working out _splendidly._ I'd made my only friend- my best friend- extremely angry at me, and I didn't think he was coming back. To top it all off, I went and fell for Danny. I was stuck in a school with weird teachers, stuck-up classmates… and I was the only person alive that I knew of that had my gift- my curse.

My curse being my ability to talk to the dead. It was a curse. It had taken all of my friends away- though it was my insatiable curiosity that had ruined my latest friendship.

Unbelievably, I started to cry as I watched snow lightly fall. Though I hated crying, I still cried anyway. I curled up on the window seat, my knees drawn into my chest, sobbing now.

"Sam?" I felt someone materialize next to me.

"Go away," I sobbed into my hands.

"Sam, what's wrong?" I heard the voice say gently.

"I said, go _away_-" I said viciously, and lifted my head, only to find that it was Danny that had found me.

Another sob escaped me and I buried my face in my hands again. I couldn't take this, not now, not _him_, the person that I wanted to see the most but just couldn't face.

"Sam," Danny pulled at my arm, "Talk to me."

I lifted my head and more tears spilled. "Oh, Danny…" I began, and I just cried harder.

Danny pulled me to him and stroked my hair. "Don't cry. What's wrong?"

I wiped my eyes and began, "Well, you would have to know my _mother_…"

Danny's face darkened. "I heard that conversation."

"So then you know. I have bad parents. Not that they don't love me… they just…"

"Neglect you," Danny finished for me, wiping my tears away.

I nodded. "Yes… and Danny?"

He looked at me questioningly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." My breath caught and I was sure I was going to start sobbing again. "I am… just so sorry."

"Sam," Danny's hand grabbed my chin and forced me to look him in the eye. "It's alright."

I shook my head and tried to break free of his superhuman grip. "No, it's not. You don't understand. I'm so immature, so inconsiderate-"

"Sam," Danny caught me as I tried to turn away from him, "I don't care. I forgive you."

Those words had a powerful effect on me. I fell against him, the wind taken out of my sails.

And then he was looking at me again with the same intensity that he had days earlier. I suddenly became hyperaware of his breath fanning out on my neck, the way he looked at me, and the slight smile on his face.

These moments seem to be happening more often lately, and I didn't know what to make of them. I was barely conscious of the fact that I was leaning into his touch, having trouble breathing…

_RING. _

Danny and I jumped out of our skins as the telephone rang. I picked it up without thinking and managed a strangled, "Hello?"

"Sam! It's Tucker!"

"Hey Tucker," I said in a voice that shook, "What's up? Why are you calling so late, it's half past ten."

"Sorry, but I wanted to tell you- I think I've got the glasses fixed! And the earphones too! I'm almost positive that they'll work!"

I smiled, "That's great, Tuck. Are you busy the day after tomorrow? We could go back downstairs with Danny."

"The twenty-sixth is good," And in a lower voice he said, "So everything's okay now?"

"Yes," I answered simply, "See you on the twenty sixth. Merry Christmas."

"Same to you. Have a merry one."

I hung up the phone. "Sorry," I apologized to Danny.

Danny merely smiled, but kissed my forehead. I froze. I couldn't breathe. "Merry Christmas, Sam."

* * *

That next morning Danny woke me up.

"Sam. Sam, get up. I want you to check this out," He said as he shook me awake.

"What?" I yawned, "Could you possibly want at seven in the morning?" I glared at him with sleepy eyes and said, "It's _vacation_, c'mon. Lemme sleep."

I flopped back down, but not before Danny whisked the covers off of me without touching anything. I blinked. I've never really gotten used to the supernatural ghost powers.

I looked at him, exasperated. He looked back at me with something that could be compared to big-puppy-eyes. I sighed, my resolve ruined, and began looking for a robe. "Okay. You win. Now what?"

"Quick, before the sun rises!" Danny disappeared before appearing, half a minute later, with boots and a jacket.

"I'm going outside?" It was a question.

"Yeah, come on! It'll be cool I promise!" Danny's grin was so infectious that I couldn't help but return it.

I shrugged on the jacket and pulled on some boots. Danny then scooped me up in his arms, went intangible, and flew through the roof. I shivered as we passed through the ceiling.

"I'll never get used to that…" I mumbled, inadvertently shifting closer to Danny.

I ran a hand through my hair, absentmindedly, and noted that pieces were sticking up in random directions. _Attractive,_ I told myself, _note to self: GET A BRUSH._

Danny placed us on the roof, clearing off a pile of snow for me. "Here. We're gonna watch the sunrise."

"Mmkay." I answered, rubbing my eyes. I could have killed for a cup of coffee.

The sky was a blur of colors. Red, blue, yellow- even green and purple filled the sky as the sky grew brighter. Soon I saw the top of that tell-tale orange sphere break the tops of the trees. And then there was light.

I gasped quietly. It was beauty like I've never seen before. The sun was coming up over the untouched snow and it was rising over the pine trees. The snow on the ground reflected a bright shade of orange.

Danny saw my face and laughed. "You like it?"

"It's beautiful," I said as I stared out into the horizon, watching the sun slowly creep up the sky.

"I know." Danny said, contentedly.

We sat in silence for a few contented moments before I heard an intake of breath from Danny.

"What is it?" I asked.

There was a funny look on his face. "I… remember…" Danny's face was a mix of concentration and awe.

My heart leapt in my chest. "You remember what?"

"This." Danny gestured to the sunrise. "I did this one Christmas… with Jazz… my last Christmas…"

"You watched the sunrise?" I asked.

He nodded. "On the roof." His eyes grew distant as he looked back over forty years into the past.

I grew quiet next to him as the sun reached its final moments of the sunrise. Then he turned to me, a mischievous and excited smile on his face.

Danny grabbed my hand. "Let's see what _else_ I remember."

I smiled back at him. "Let's," I agreed.

Danny turned us both intangible and we went back into the house.

* * *

**Authoress says:** Nice turnaround from last chapter, huh? Stay tuned 'cuz this one's FAR from over.

**And now I ask a few things of you:** One, show this story to a DP- loving friend. Two, check out my profile please. YOU get to decide what story gets written next. Three, as always, **read and review.**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Just My Luck  
Chapter Thirteen

**This chapter:** Exploring, near death experiences, Tucker, and some D/S.

_Danny grabbed my hand. "Let's see what _else_ I remember."_

_I smiled back at him. "Let's," I agreed._

_Danny turned us both intangible and we went back into the house. _

* * *

Danny pulled me into the kitchen. It was nearing seven now, but he was making a racket as he searched through pots and pans.

"What are you doing?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"I'm looking for pans," Danny answered, shifting through cabinets via telekinesis.

"…Why?"

Danny turned around and grinned at me. Damn those baby-blues. "Because I am going to make you breakfast."

A very amused look appeared on my face. "Oh, and you can cook?"

"I cook very well!" Danny stated, rummaging through the cabinets for god-knows-what.

"And what are you cooking?" I asked.

"Pancakes."

Danny must have seen the skeptical look on my face. "I can cook," He said defensively.

"I don't doubt _you_," I emphasized, "But what about ghosts? Can _they_ cook?"

"It's worth a shot." Danny replied flippantly.

I shrugged. Whatever. It was Christmas after all.

"Sooo…" I began, setting the table, "Why are you cooking pancakes?"

"Remember when I told you I only remembered a few things from my life?" Danny asked.

"Yes…" Where was this going?

"Well, I remember the conditions of my death, the things in the basement, and how to make killer pancakes." Danny smiled brightly, turning on all that sixties-charm.

I snickered. "Pancakes is kind of random…"

Danny shrugged again. "Who knows. Maybe making these things will trigger my memory."

I nodded, watching him work (both actually touching utensils and levitating them). "It's worth a shot." I echoed his earlier sentiment.

Danny actually made pretty good pancakes. He watched with amusement as I continued to eat.

"What's so funny?" I asked as I poured maple all over a second helping.

"I don't eat. I really don't remember food," He propped an elbow on the table and rested his chin in his palm.

"Mmm," I said offhandedly, "Really? That's too bad."

Danny's grin grew bigger to see just how much I was enjoying his breakfast. I met his gaze and grinned also. At that second I heard Aunt Elma coming down the stairs.

"See you later, Sam," Danny said to me as he dematerialized.

"Bye," I answered, wondering how I was going to explain the pancakes to Aunt Elma. She knows I can't cook to save my life…

"Good morning Sam," She yawned, heading for the coffee pot.

"Morning," I answered back, giving up on elaborate lies about the pancakes.

"You made pancakes?" She asked, surprised.

"Yeah," I said, "I decided they couldn't be too difficult, so I tried anyway."

I heard echoes of ghostly laughter in my ear. I swatted Danny, but pretended I was brushing my hair out of my face.

Aunt Elma smiled, "This is a nice surprise," and she sat down to eat.

* * *

The rest of the day went pretty much by tradition. My parents had airmailed my gifts a few days before. I made out pretty well: a nice digital camera, some books and typical savings bonds and cash from Grandma Manson.

I'd gotten Aunt Elma a collection of classic horror movies and we spent the rest of the day watching them.

The following day Tucker called around noon.

"Hey Ghost Girl!" He yelled.

"Ouch! Tucker!"

"I'm sorry I just cannot contain myself!" Tucker shouted, his voice muted by the fact that I was holding the phone at arm's length, "BUT I GOT A NEW PHONE, GIRLFRIEND!"

"Ummm… yay?"

"Damn right you are!" Tucker said, "So girl, what's the Snooping Agenda look like?"

I leaned back in my new roller chair. "Well, we still have to figure out how The Necromancer works."

"Is there like an instruction manual or something?"

"I dunno." At that moment Danny materialized. _Weird. I was just thinking about him._ "Maybe there is. We don't actually know."

"Does your boyfriend know?"

"TUCKER!" I yelled, unconscious of how loud my voice actually was. "DON'T- YOU- EVER- IN-_SIN-_UATE-"

"Whoa! Relax, Sam, I was joking," Tucker sounded apologetic and a little frightened.

"It wasn't funny," I grumbled, but I returned to my businesslike manner. "Why don't you come over- I've got the house to myself today."

"Awesome. I'll be there in twenty," Tucker said.

"Okay. See you." I pressed end and turned to Danny.

"Tucker's coming over. We're going exploring." I smiled. "Does that sound good to you?"

"Yeah," Danny answered, "Just as long as Tucker doesn't scream at me."

Tucker arrived twenty minutes later as promised.

"Brrr! It's _cold_ outside!" He shouted, slipping out of his snow boots and into sneakers he'd brought.

"Here." I handed him a hot cup of coffee, "Warm up for a while, and then we'll go exploring."

"Thank you," Tucker took the coffee from my hands and sat down on the couch.

I had a cup for myself, which I set down on the coffee table as I leaned over to grab a cookie I'd decorated myself a few days prior.

"Mmm, those look good," Tucker said, swallowing a mouthful of coffee as he reached for a few gingerbread men.

Tucker and I chatted for a few minutes while we finished our coffee. As I was on my last sip, Danny appeared right in front of Tucker.

Tucker practically inhaled a mouthful of hot coffee. Spluttering, he set down the mug and searched rapidly in his backpack. He eventually came out with a set of silver ear buds.

"Sam, where did you get this guy again?" Danny asked me, never taking his eyes off of Tucker's trembling form.

"Shut it, you, he's the only normal friend I have!" Yet I smiled to soften the insult.

"What do you mean he's the only _normal_ friend you have?" Danny asked, turning around.

"_I'm_ not dead," Tucker pointed out ever so eloquently.

"Yes, _and_?" Danny arched an eyebrow and took a step closer to Tucker.

"And- and- and- so there!" Tucker exclaimed, poking a finger in Danny's chest. Then Tucker realized exactly who, or what, he was talking to and looked positively frightened.

Danny, however, looked amused. "Oh really?"

"Yes really!" The two stared at each other. I rolled my eyes and sighed long-sufferingly.

"I think I like you, man." Tucker said, looking Danny up and down. "You're kinda pretty cool."

Danny looked only a little confused, but changed the subject. "Are you finished with that coffee yet and can we go searching now?"

Tucker glanced into his cup. "Almost." He proceeded to down the remaining half of his coffee in one gulp.

I grimaced. "Ew, Tucker, learn some freaking manners."

Tucker shrugged and said, "Well, can we go now?"

"Finally," Danny sighed, and picked the two of us up. He phased right through the floor and into the basement lab.

* * *

As soon as Tucker became solid again he was off like a shot, murmuring things about servers and motherboards and who-else-knows-what.

I turned to Danny. "Do you remember anything now?"

Danny's brow furrowed. "No. Can't say that I do, but it feels like something's trying to come into focus."

I nodded. "Is there anyway I can help?"

"No, I don't think…" Danny trailed off in the middle of the sentence, but seemed to change his mind. He turned the full power of his blue eyes on me. "Sam, I think I do."

I swallowed. Hard. His eyes were unnerving. "What do you remember now?"

"Not much… I just have a feeling that this lab is… not right… do you know what I mean?"

"Like you mean, haunted?" I said stupidly. Immediately I wanted to kick myself.

Danny gave me a look. "Sam, I'm haunting it."

I turned beet red, extremely embarrassed, and whirled away from him, talking madly. "Well, I guess then I don't know what you mean, because well, I don't know what you mean because, um, I don't…" I trailed off pathetically.

Danny sighed, but it wasn't a frustrated one. "Sam…"

I turned around. "What?"

His blue eyes were intense again. "I just have a feeling that this lab is, well, very important on the subject of my death."

"You really think so?" I raised my eyes to meet his. I had trouble catching my breath.

"Yes." Danny didn't break eye contact. "And please be careful down here… something's not right."

"I will." Since when was I whispering?

"And Sam…" His voice was a whisper too, and he was moving towards me.

"Yes?" He was so close now. I could see his chest rising and falling.

"I…" Danny abruptly turned around. "Nothing. Just be careful."

"Okay," I was more hurt than I should have been, and I turned around in a daze.

"I FOUND IT!" Tucker screamed from all the way across the lab.

I jumped at the sudden loud noise. "You found what?"

"The manual. Or at least I think I did." Tucker waved a bound book excitedly. "Come see!"

I raced across the lab to join him. Tucker showed me the bound papers he found, _Necromancer: The Manual._

"Well," Danny said from behind us. I jumped. I hadn't noticed he was there. "Open it."

Tucker turned the first page, which was blank. He flipped to the next, which was also blank.

Tucker's face became more and more confused as every page he flipped to was blank. "Who the hell would do something like this?"

A ghost of a laugh (excuse the pun) flitted across Danny's face. "My father. He would think it was funny. He always said, 'It's in the last place you look'."

Whatever Danny said seemed to give Tucker an idea. Tucker began rapidly flipping pages until he reached the last one. "Press the button."

"What button?" I said, looking on the walls for a button to push.

"I don't know." Tucker flipped madly through the book again. "It doesn't say where."

"It's right here." Danny said, looking under the table.

The ground beneath Tucker's feet began to shake. Tucker ran to my side quickly as the floor began to open up and a capsule rise out of it. "Dude, your house is weird." He said to me.

"Tell me about it," I muttered dryly. If only he knew about Aunt Elma's absentmindedness.

The walls stopped shaking as the capsule stopped rising from the floor. The capsule was made of iron and stood about ten feet tall. There was a door with a small window. A pod of some sort was attached, but it was only a three-by-three sturdy iron box. Next to the Necromancer, there was a large mirror-like thing.

"I don't get it." Tucker said immediately. "What's all that for?"

"Damn if I know," I answered back. "I guess we'll have to do this the hard way."

"Which is what…" Tucker trailed off, seeming to be a little afraid of what I might say next.

"Search it manually. I'll do that, you continue looking for some sort of manual or instruction book." As I was giving out the orders I was already walking towards The Necromancer. "Danny," I turned the ghost, "Will you help me please?"

Danny smiled and it sent pleasant shivers down my spine. "Of course."

"So…" I said, examining the Necromancer for something, but I didn't know what. "Do you think Jazz knows about this?"

"It's possible," Danny's voice came from the other side of the Necromancer.

"Would it be worthwhile to call her?"

"It's worth a try," Danny said. By this time we had met up on the backside of the mirror-like thing.

I continued to feel underneath it. My fingers brushed something, and as I pulled it out it turned out to be a power chord of some kind. "Hey look!"

Danny smiled. "It looks like you found something."

I grinned and noted the outlet behind me. "I'm gonna plug it in."

"Go right ahead." Danny smiled. "I can't wait to see what memories this brings up."

As I bent to plug in the chord, I heard Danny gasp from behind me. "No! Sam! Don't!"

I turned around just as I began to push the chord in. "Danny, are you-"

Danny shoved me out of the way a nanosecond before the outlet began to shoot sparks. I lay in a heap on the floor, Danny on top of me, as the lights went out.

* * *

**Notes:** Yeah. I really need to get a game plan on this, but I don't expect more than ten more chapters or so. We're getting to the middle of the story now.

Now for some announcements- please read them.

**Please** check my profile! It's updated regularly, and it has information about updates, upcoming stories, and why I may not be writing.

**Calling all Teen Titans fans**- someone poked my Titans muse with a freaking cattle prod. I have a new story out titled _Distress Signal_. Go check it out.

Oh yeah, and please **review**.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Just My Luck

Chapter Fourteen

One thing before I begin. I have not abandoned fanfiction. I took a much-needed break, and then I had some personal issues to sort out (not drugs. Depression came back). And, yeah, I know I don't update frequently, but I'm in college (a music education major- I have eleven classes in the fall. My friends all have four. _Eleven_. ELEVEN- and thats not even counting Symphonic Band). I also work two jobs. And I have an actual life, and sometimes, I just wanna go to the beach, ya know?

I promise you I'm not leaving anytime soon. And that eventually- this story will be finished.

**In this chapter:** Danny saves Sam (multiple times), Tucker is a dork, and a ghostly visitor. Oh, and chick flicks.

_I turned around just as I began to push the chord in. "Danny, are you-"_

_Danny shoved me out of the way a nanosecond before the outlet began to shoot sparks. I lay in a heap on the floor, Danny on top of me, as the lights went out._

* * *

Tucker came running over as fast as he could. "Sam! Sam! Are you okay?"

"I think so." I sat up gingerly and rubbed my shoulder where it had smacked the ground.

"Sam," Danny's hands were all over me, checking for injuries, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I grimaced, "Just a little sore from hitting the ground, that's all. I'm not electrocuted or anything."

Danny withdrew his hands from my shoulders and gave me a brief hug. "That's good."

Suddenly Danny's eyes grew wide. "I know why that happened."

"Why?" Tucker asked, helping me up. "Is the wiring faulty or something?"

Danny shook his head, and the lights went back on. "No. I remember."

I shook Tucker loose and took Danny's hand in mine. "What do you remember?"

Danny's eyes met mine, though his were far away. He said slowly, "Vlad. Vlad used to tinker around with this machine… the Ghost Portal. That's what it's called. Yeah. The Ghost Portal…"

Danny had trailed off. "And?" I prompted him.

Danny's gaze was still in the past. "My parents believed that using the Ghost Portal was a safe and foolproof way to contact ghosts. It's kind of like an Ouija board. Only safer."

"Safer?" Tucker snorted. "Is it supposed to electrocute the people that want to use it?"

Danny shook his head no and released his hand from mine. "It's not supposed to. It was very close to working at the time I died. I just can't remember why Vlad was always screwing around with it…"

Danny had trailed off again, but this time a look of comprehension had dawned on his face. He whirled around and stared at the Ghost Portal again. "Vlad didn't want it to work," Danny finally said, "He _wanted_ it to do that… electrocute… but now I can't remember why."

I reached out and took Danny's shoulders. "You'll remember. I promise. I'll help."

Danny smiled at me. "Thanks, Sam."

Tucker snickered until I glared at him.

* * *

We searched for only an hour more before Tucker began to complain, very vocally, about how hungry he was. "Saaaaaam, I'm huuungryyyy."

"Tucker, you just told me that not even five minutes ago!" I stuck my head up from a box I had been digging through.

"It doesn't change the fact that I'm hungry." Tucker stated, stabbing his finger into the table for emphasis.

I sighed exasperatedly. "Okay, fine, you win. Danny, I need to get PDA-boy his food."

"I can make pancakes again," Danny said excitedly, scooping me up.

"Um…" Tucker's face was very amused. "Pancakes? Since when do ghosts cook?"

"Since always," Danny said conversationally, picking Tucker up. Tucker let out a little squeak of surprise at being touched, "And I happen to make good pancakes. Just ask Sam."

"Ohhh…" A mischievous look crossed over Tucker's face, "I can just ask Sam, can I?"

Blushing furiously, I mumbled, "They were good."

Tucker continued to snicker, "I was just going to ask if we could order pizza."

"Pizza's fine, I guess… just no meat," I said as Danny placed us down in the kitchen.

Tucker raced toward the phone. "Why, are you a vegetarian or something?"

"I'm an ultra-recyclo-"

"I know, Sam, I know. Half and half, then?" Tucker widened his eyes at me and stuck out his lip a little, "Please?"

"Oh fine," I smiled. "Just as long as my half is bigger."

"No can do, goth girl. Didn't you ever take math?" Tucker said cheerfully as he dialed the number. "Yes, hey, I'd like one pizza…"

* * *

The pizzas came quickly and Tucker ate with gusto. "Have you ever seen anything so disturbing?" I asked Danny, daintily biting into my slice.

Danny laughed. "If you had seen my dad eat, then maybe you'd have to rethink that question."

"Oh really?" Now I was intrigued.

Danny laughed again. "Well, my dad tried to make a grill that would cook things faster. He decided to power it with ghost-energy…"

"Go on," I urged, reaching for another slice.

Danny's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Well, whatever they cooked ended up… haunted."

"Haunted?" I snorted. "How does food end up haunted?"

"If you cooked something, it ended up possessed. We cooked hotdogs once…" Danny sighed, "They took refuge inside the fridge for two weeks before Jazz figured out how to get rid of them."

I started laughing. "Is this invention still around?"

"No, Jazz and my mom dismantled it and buried it in the backyard. They told my dad the hotdogs took it."

For a brief instant, I imagined telling Mr. Lancer the reason I didn't do my homework was because the mutant hotdogs ate it, and I laughed harder.

"Mmmph!" Tucker exclaimed, looking at his watch. "Oh man, I've gotta go."

Mine and Danny's head turned to where Tucker was frantically gathering his things, and stuffing the rest of the pizza in his mouth. "You okay, Tuck?" Danny asked.

"No no no, I have to be home in five minutes and I'm never gonna get there on time!" Tucker ran from the dining room and into the hall, gathering his coat and his boots. "Gotta go Sam, thanks for having me, loved the food- but I gotta run now."

"You fail to realize that we have an excellent mode of transportation among us," I said, snickering. "Danny, can't you just teleport him over there or something?"

Danny was snickering as well. "Yeah. I believe I can."

Danny took Tucker home in the time it took me to clean up the kitchen. When Danny rematerialized, I said, "Nice to have you back. Did Tucker make it home okay?"

Danny nodded. "He made it just in time."

"That's good."

Conversation lulled, and I didn't feel the need to make small talk. It was always the way I felt with Danny- at ease and not rushed. It was comforting.

* * *

The next day I slept until almost noon. Aunt Elma was sick and informed me that she would be taking over the couch for the day.

"Would you like to join me? We can have another movie day." Aunt Elma sniffled miserably.

"That sounds fine. I can walk to Blockbuster or something. What do you want?" I gathered my coat, but I was hoping Danny would show up and take me there instead.

"My soul is in need of chick flicks," Aunt Elma said, "Get a lot."

I nodded. "Sure thing. I'll get some."

I walked upstairs, whispering, "Danny? Are you there? I need a favor."

Danny appeared sitting on my windowseat. "I'm glad to help you, Sam. What is it?"

I smiled in spite of myself. Where had my independent spirit gone? "I just need to go to Blockbuster. Aunt Elma's sick and she wants movies, and I don't think she wants to spend the day alone. Can I get a lift?"

"Of course," Danny smiled. "Let's go."

Danny took me off guard by scooping me up into his chest. "Hang on,"

"I will, don't worry," I tightened my arms around his neck, watching as Amity flew by beneath us.

* * *

Aunt Elma and I made a day out of chick flicks. We watched musicals, like _Rent_, fashion ones, like _The Devil Wears Prada_, and classic ones, like _Gone With The Wind_.

As we headed up to bed, Aunt Elma called, "Sam, I know tomorrow's your birthday. What do you want for dinner?"

I paused a moment. "I'm dying for some pasta," I said finally, "How about Fettucini Alfredo?"

"Sounds perfect. I'll go to the store tomorrow and pick up the ingredients."

"Thanks," I opened the door to my room. Danny was still sitting on my windowseat.

"How was your day?" He asked me.

"It was fine," I said breezily, grabbing comfortable sleeping clothes from my drawers.

"Good to know." Danny stood up. "See you in the morning, then."

I nodded. "Till morning."

* * *

It was only a few hours later that I was rudely reawakened. Cold hands grasped my ankles and pulled me onto the floor with a thud.

"Ow," I sat up, holding my head. "Now, what the f-"

Cold hands pushed on my chest and smacked my head into the floor. "Language, medium."

Great. Inviso-Girl was back again. "Look," I said, pushing myself up to a standing position, "What do you want from me?"

Another shove and I was sent sprawling into my dresser. The clock fell off, striking my toes. The time was close to midnight.

"At least you're doing this at an almost decent hour," I grumbled to no one in particular. "I'll say it again: What do you want from me?"

A slap across my face. "Stop investigating."

"No," I swung wildly with my fists. "Look, you coward! Show yourself so we can have a real fight!"

A foot connected solidly with my stomach and I doubled over. "No!" The girl said harshly, "Stop investigating, and I will stop coming!"

"I won't stop investigating even if it's the death of me!" I screamed.

"Bad choice of words, little medium."

Hands closed around my throat. I gasped, clawing at those hands, kicking at the invisible ghost, but her superhuman strength prevailed.

A bull-like roar broke the silence. It was Danny, who pried the girl off me in less than a second. He had her pinned on the floor, again.

"Show yourself," He said harshly, "_Now_."

For a brief instant, a girl flickered before us: long blue hair, heavily done-up eyes, and a pair of black leather boots. Then she was gone.

I sat down in a heap, gasping.

"Are you alright?" Danny had forgone the injury check and went straight to the hugging this time.

"I'm good." My throat felt raw, my head was throbbing, and my toes hurt like hell, but I wasn't going to complain. It was far to nice to be in Danny's arms.

"You sure?" Danny let go of me, only to hold me at length and look me up and down. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Maybe I should have said something hurt if it made for a longer hug. "I'm just a little banged up, but none the worse for wear. I'm fine."

Danny's reproachful look made me giggle. "I'm fine," I insisted.

"What did this one want?" He asked, all business.

Now I grew uncomfortable. "She wanted me to stop investigating."

Danny reacted just as I thought he would- badly. "Then stop! This isn't important if you're in danger, Sam!"

I rolled my eyes. "I am not in danger. This is nothing too different than any other messy investigation I've been involved in. Ghosts come after me- I'm used to it. I've been doing this for fourteen years-"

"You mean fifteen," Danny said suddenly.

"Huh?"

Danny motioned to the clock. "You've been doing this for fifteen years now. Happy birthday."

I looked at the digits on the clock. It was a little after midnight. "Yeah, you're right. Fifteen years and I've never gotten seriously hurt, Danny. Have a little faith."

"Sam. I've always had faith in you," Danny said softly, "And I always will."

He gathered me into a hug and didn't let go.

* * *

**Now for some business:** By a show of hands, who would be interested in reading a Teen Titans fanfic? I don't mean that I'll definately post a new one, but I've had a few quality ideas banging around in the old brain space here. Anyone interested? (Oh yeah, and Different's gonna be finished _very _soon. I'm close).


End file.
